


Let Me Lean On You

by starlies



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Romance, Slow Build, Spoilers, Spoilers for hectors mode specifically, a little bit of canon divergence, not exactly enemies but you get what i mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 26,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7872529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlies/pseuds/starlies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lyn is upset, Hector has peculiar dreams, and the two of them realize they have more in common than they think and, somehow, fall in love.</p><p>(main story chapters 1-24, epilogue chapters 25-35)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'd been wanting to do a hectorlyn project for some time now, and finally, I've started! :) I feel like it's an unpopular pair... but I'm going to do this anyways. It's good practice. I got a lot of inspiration for their relationship from Pride and Prejudice, honestly lol. It's not the same circumstances, but I felt a sort of parallel in the initial misunderstanding in their relationships... if that makes sense?
> 
> It's completely incidental information and has nothing to do with the plot of this fic, but I write the tactician (Mark) as Marc (Morgan) from Awakening (bc it's a fun hc to me and can be explained with either the dragon's gate or multiple timelines or both) (i feel like im alone on this too lol)
> 
> And! Unrelated (but big) news - I started college this week! Yay! Being up and about with my laptop every day has really helped me with writing. I get SO MUCH more inspiration by being active like this than when I was cooped up at home. (btw i'm a writing major so feedback on this is definitely (thumbs up emoji))

Badon was a blur to Lyndis as she stormed away from her companions, fists clenched at her sides; she didn’t particularly care where she ended up so long as she was away from the boys and their naiveté about bargains with bandits. As a result, she found herself lost in the port’s market after a moment of stomping around the streets, swallowed by the scents of fish and spices for sale and the shouts of vendors, loud and cacophonous.

She planted her boots in the middle of the cobblestoned road and gaped; this was a far cry from home. Caelin had a market district, of course, but not this chaotic. And Sacae… she’d visited Bulgar once, as a child, and decided it was the one place more hectic than the port of Badon, where trade routes from Ilia, Lycia, and Bern all met. Like Badon, the market in Bulgar was colorful and crowded, cloth canopies squeezed together along the city streets, shoppers brushing shoulder to shoulder as they went about their errands. Other children might have found the sight enthralling, but Lyndis only felt claustrophobic and overwhelmed, clinging tightly to her father until he lead their horse out of the city and back home – back to the open plains, to the tribe.

Lyndis frowned and shook off the memory – she couldn’t go home now. There was no way to get all the way back to Sacae, and even still, it wasn’t as if anyone would be waiting for her there.

A familiar, delicate hand grasped Lyn’s arm, and she turned around. Florina had chased after her, as evident by her messier-than-usual lavender hair and exhausted turquoise eyes. “L-lady Lyndis!” she said between heavy breaths. “You left so fast, I was worried… I wasn’t sure what was happening until Hector and Eliwood left for the inn to speak to the pirate captain…”

“So they are going ahead with their ill-born ideas… hmph.” Lyndis crossed her arms. “That Hector. He doesn’t think before he acts, does he? A pirate ship… he just doesn’t get it.” Of course he wouldn’t understand, not _Lord Hector_ , a nobleman of the same pedigree as Eliwood. He’d been sheltered in castles and schools his whole life – he taught himself to fight for sport, not survival, and he likely had a family awaiting his return back in Ostia. There was no way he could have the same understanding of loss she did.

“Well, after you left, he suggested that they abandon the idea of pirates, but Eliwood decided to give them a chance anyway…”

“They don’t deserve chances. Bandits, pirates… they’re all the same. That’s why I want to find passage to Valor that doesn’t involve them – I can’t trust those kinds of people.”

“I understand,” Florina said, and dropped her hand from Lyn’s arm to hold her hand. “And I am in your service, Lady Lyndis, so… may I help you with that?”

Lyndis smiled in return, forgetting to conceal her teeth and providing her knight with a brilliant grin to contrast her earlier scowl. “Thank you, Florina. I’m sure there’s a merchant somewhere here who may lead us on the right path!”

Together, they then entered the market, questioning every vendor about boats leaving Badon and captains available for hire. The port city was excellent for embarking – regular departures for Bern and Etruria and even all the way around to Ilia – but still, every person they spoke to claimed the same as the man they first encountered in the town. Only a mad man would sail to Valor, the Dread Isle. Only one as ambitious as a pirate.

“You won’t find a ship headed towards the Dread Isle, not if you asked the whole town, milady,” one particularly sleazy-looking merchant told them. “Perhaps you could swim there, but fetching girls like you ought to stay ashore. You’re too pretty to brave the waters.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” Lyndis scoffed, and began to turn away.

“I did catch word of a commotion down by the port, however,” the merchant added before she was out of earshot. “Not sure what’s happening, but apparently Captain Fargus stirred up some nobles again.”

“Lyn, nobles! Maybe it’s Hector and Eliwood?”

The lord nodded and faced the merchant once more. “Tell, who is this Captain Fargus?”

“The most notorious pirate captain in Lycia, of course,” the merchant answered with a laugh.

Frowning, Lyndis left the vendor and began towards the port. “It has to be them, those fools… but we have to get to that island, so it looks like we’ll have to endure pirates…”

Florina accompanied her through the town, following shouts and battle cries down to the port. Evidently, the pirates were not organized enough to form a distinct army, but rather wandered the streets in groups in anticipation for a skirmish, shouting about the “inevitable defeat of the Pheraean army” by the hands of Fargus’s pirates and how the Pheraeans were clearly “cowards for not coming to arms yet” and a general variety of vulgar things. Lyndis saw them around every corner as she jogged through the streets: giant, burly men with unkempt beards and identifying blue bandanas. Clearly, this Fargus fellow only allowed the most threatening-looking brigands to join his crew.

Finally, on the street where Lyndis left Hector and Eliwood, she found them again. The boys stood in front of an inn along with Marc, their tactician, clearly discussing the battle they’d somehow gotten themselves involved in. To Lyn’s dismay, her comrades all seemed somewhat excited about the ordeal.

“What in the world is going on?” she exclaimed.

 “Oh! Lyn!” Hector called to her as he turned from the discussion. “Nice timing. We need your help!”

Lyndis rose an eyebrow at the request. “You’re battling the pirates?”

Eliwood took notice of Lyn’s arrival as well. “Fighting and…” he began, but shook his head and stopped himself before rambling an explanation. “Look, we have to reach the docks and speak to the captain! This is a test to see whether or not he’ll give us passage.”

So it wasn’t a simple bargain with the pirates after all. Rather, it was some sort of test; but why prove themselves to pirates? She needn’t earn the respect of thieves. Yet the idea of demonstrating their strength was promising – if their army trounced Fargus’s gang of pirates, it could prove who had the upper hand in their agreement to reach Valor. Lyndis could handle pirates if they respected their place beneath her… but the implication of alliance that such an agreement held… no, they had to reach the Dread Isle for the marquess’s – and Lycia’s – sake.

“I don’t understand, but…” Lyn said, and gave a resigned sigh. “I’m here, so let me help!”

She caught a flash of a grin on Hector’s face before he turned to Marc. “Well then, we have all three of us here and Florina, so what’s our plan of action?” he asked.

“Well, first, Florina – can you fetch Huey and gather everyone else?” the tactician said. “Because the pirates are scattered throughout the village, I think it’d be best if we separate to knock them out and then rendezvous at the arena. Fargus has his ship just north of it, but in case he decides to launch a final attack on us, we can tackle it together.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him to pull something tricky like that,” Lyn agreed.

Marc nodded, his navy-blue hair bouncing against his forehead. “We should divide into teams – please relay that to everyone else, Florina. As far as the four of us go, I believe Eliwood and I should take the south road, and Hector and Lyndis can head north.”

“US?”

Eliwood stifled a chuckle by pressing his fist to his mouth. “What’s wrong with you two pairing up? You’re both skilled fighters, after all. This should be easy.”

“I apologize, but I do question Lord Hector’s methods of combat. To put it simply, he’s a reckless fighter and it puts his comrades in danger! We may each be better off on our own.” From the first time she saw how he fought - weeks ago when he helped her retake Caelin - Lyn didn’t approve of Hector’s style of fighting. Even though he explained how he was never taught, and she apologized for being angry with him, she fell back into distrust with him after seeing his acquiescence in regard to taking the pirates’ boat to the island.

“I thought you understood why I fight the way I do,” Hector added with a grumble. “I don’t need to be joined to my greatest critic. She’s right. I can get much more done if I work on my own and don’t have to worry about her.”

Marc crossed his arms. He was a slender boy around the other lords’ ages and was about an inch shorter than Eliwood, making him the smallest of the group - in the year Lyndis had known him, he still hadn’t completely grown into his long tactician’s robes. But despite his physical meekness in comparison to his friends, Marc seemed to know more than the three of them combined. “Eliwood being the unsaid leader of this army, it’s best that he stick with me, as our tactician. That leaves Hector and Lyndis as the remaining pair. Because you’re our strongest fighters, it will be most efficient for the two of you to lead your troops and eliminate the bulk of the enemy to the north.”

“Hm. There’s not much a choice then, is there?” Hector faced Lyn and held out his hand. “I trust Marc.”

“As do I,” Lyn replied shortly. She paused to stare at Hector’s open palm – it was not an offering of peace to her, but a question. Was she too proud to set aside her grievances for Eliwood’s sake? For Lycia’s sake? In the end, she knew she couldn’t leave Eliwood to the same fate she faced that day in Sacae – he didn’t deserve that. No one did.

Finally, she took Hector’s hand in her own and gave a firm shake, looking square into his midnight-blue eyes. “Marc has had my utmost respect for over a year now, and I trust his decisions will lead us to save Lord Elbert.”

“With that settled, I believe we should advance, then,” Marc said with a sly grin. And with that, they took to arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so y'all know, all of this is based on Hector's mode. :>

The evening sky was clear as Lyndis gazed westward upon the ocean, watching the sun dip down to the violet mountains of Nabata and paint the heavens in warm honey-colored hues. A small sigh escaped her. Seeing the southern sea sparkle in the light of sunset was breathtaking, almost enough to distract her from the circumstances surrounding her presence on the boat – but the fact she was leaning on a railing on the deck of a _pirate ship_ of all places unnerved her, no matter how she looked at it, no matter how the sky smiled at her.

The memories sat in her heart like cold black stones, weighing heavier at sea than back in Caelin. How had she gotten involved in all this?

Lyndis propped her elbow against the railing and rested her chin on her hand. For a moment, she was nearly in agreement with her comrades on the matter of pirates, when she found herself pleasantly surprised that no final assault awaited them at the docks: only the old pirate Fargus, a man with a sea foam-grey beard and small, smiling blue eyes. He stood before his own tall ship with arms crossed on his exposed chest, laughing at the weary commanders come to greet him. “Aha! You made it, whelps!” he said, as if the occasion was a birthday party instead of a trip to the Death Isle.

“That was… hard…” Hector groaned from beside Lyn. Not that she needed to be reminded of the seemingly endless onslaught of ruffians they combatted on their way there; somehow, they’d made it through without dispatching each other. When Hector kept his mouth shut and watched where his ax went – she loathed to admit it, even to herself – he was a formidable ally. Lyn would have to apologize to Marc later.

Eliwood appeared to be the most worn of the four of them, speaking through heavily labored breaths to the captain. “Haa… You’ll give us passage now… won’t you?”

“I’m a man of the sea. I always keep my word,” Fargus replied, surveying the group. His assuring smile widened into a grin at Lyndis, the lone woman. “Are my old eyes lyin’ to me? Is this beauty really with you? Gwaa ha ha ha! My lucky day!”

Any semblance of a pleasant feeling she had developed for the pirates was eradicated by Fargus’ comment, but all Lyn could respond with was a knot-tight frown.

“Listen, I know how you feel, but you have to accept it,” Hector said, the first to notice her discomfort. “We’ve no other choice!”

The funny thing was, Lyndis didn’t recall asking for his opinion on the matter, and she certainly knew that he _didn’t_ know how she felt in the least bit, so his comment was completely and utterly unnecessary.

“I know that!” she retorted, whipping around to Hector with furrowed brows and fiery eyes. “I haven’t said a word, have I?” And she wouldn’t say a word on the matter, excusing herself after her bite at Hector under the pretense of helping the rest of the troops board the Davros. She didn’t need reminding of how Fargus’ services were the only way to reach the island. It pained her to go along with the plan, but for the sake of rescuing Eliwood’s father, for the sake of eliminating this “Black Fang” that captured Caelin, it would be worth it. She could manage through it.

But still, it hurt, as if she was betraying them by letting herself be taken by bandits too.

With night approaching, Lyn was the only one on the deck beside a few seagulls perched on the rail opposite her – everyone else was situating themselves in the hold. Or so she thought, until the sound of boots against the wood and shuffling armor alerted her to Hector swinging open the door to the deck. “Eliwood! ...Huh?” Lyn heard him call. She didn’t have to turn around to realize that he’d come up here searching for Eliwood, only to intrude on her solitude… but did he have to be so noisy about it?

“If you’re looking for Eliwood, he’s talking with the captain,” Lyn told him, still facing the sea. “They came through here on their way to his cabin.”

Her response was intended to cue Hector to make his way to the captain’s quarters, but instead, she found him walking up beside her and bracing his hands against the railing. “Oh. I won’t bother him, then.”

“… Do you need something?”

“I’d like you to stop pouting. This pirate ship is the only way for us to get to the Dread Isle, and I thought you understood that. Was I mistaken?”

“How I feel or what I think is no concern of yours!” Lyn surged up from her slouch to standing with fists at her sides. Heat flooded her face - of course he would have the audacity to assume she was just “pouting”, as if she was a child who wasn’t getting her way.

Hector’s eyebrows arched as his chest rose with a breath, allowing a moment for her anger to settle. “Eliwood told me…about your parents and those bandits,” he admitted. Perhaps in an attempt to be reassuring, he gave Lyn a gentle nudge and a small smile, his eyes dark and mellow like twilight. “But these pirates? They don’t seem like bad fellows.”

“It wasn’t just my parents!” Lyn burst as she ripped her arm away from Hector. “My entire tribe! Everyone was killed! They poisoned our drinking water… My people were in such pain, they could hardly stand… That’s when the bandits attacked! They waited until we were defenseless!”

She stood before him with her boots planted firmly on the deck, her heart racing, her breaths quick. He didn’t understand, not in the least bit, what it meant, what pirates and brigands and bandits meant – thieves of not only material, but of life and innocence. They didn’t know civility and justice, only terror… and he thought they didn’t _seem_ like bad fellows?

Hector only gazed at her with those gods-damned midnight-blue eyes, unmoving.

“My father put me on his horse, and I escaped… Just me,” she said, the memories burning at her throat and eyes, tumbling off her tongue without restraint. “My poor father… The pain must have been terrible. He lifted me up, his arms shaking… his last breath… Now do you understand?”

Tears blurred her vision, just like they had that day. Lyn sniffled, rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, and continued – if he didn’t understand yet, she’d make him. “I was found unconscious by another tribe, and I awoke ten days later. When I awoke… what I felt… the bodies of my people had already been buried. I never even had the chance to say farewell. My last memory of my father… H-he was… broken… dying. I can still see the axes, rising and falling... It… It’s not…”

It wasn’t right to put her trust in the hands of pirates. Not after that.

Lyndis tried to stop sniffling, but couldn’t manage to stop. No matter. _Let_ Hector see her cry.

Instead, he turned away from her.

“Hey! What- What are you doing?” Lyn stepped forward and grabbed him by the shoulder - mindful of his armor – to see if he was the kind who couldn’t help but cry when they saw someone else crying. He wasn’t.

“You’re a strong woman, Lyndis. I thought you wouldn’t want anyone to see you cry.”

“You’re such a fool!” Lyn spat. Where did he get the notion that he was some emotional expert? “If you think that’s what I want, then why not just leave!”

Hector considered her proposition, looking down at the floor, then up at her with a heavy expression, much unlike the bright face he put on in battle. “I…” Slowly, he formed the words. “I lost my parents, too.”

“You…” So she’d been wrong about him in that regard. And now… was he trying to be sincere?

“It was illness that took them. Nothing like what happened to you,” he explained. He spoke as though he was trying to walk across paper without rustling it; either he finally realized that he’d hit a sensitive subject, or he simply felt that Lyn’s catharsis warranted a revelation on his part, too. “Still, I wanted nothing more than to cry like a little baby. And yet, I couldn’t cry… Not in front of others. And when I was alone, I found I still couldn’t. So…I simply thought…” With a shrug of his shoulders and a shake of his head, Hector took a deep sigh. “I don’t know…”

Lyn’s eyes were still swollen and burning, but she gave a thin, disbelieving smile. “You really are a fool,” she said, her voice hoarse. “That’s no way to… You can’t just…”

Hector’s eyes left hers and laid upon the sea again, and a silence fell over them, save for waves lapping at the hull. So he was capable of emotion, and perhaps even empathy – he thought there was something shared between himself and her, some similar approach to similar dilemmas, but there wasn’t. How did he just not react to the loss of his parents, unless there was no attachment to them in the first place? But he clearly felt something, something that he bottled up and let thrash about in his head, even when he was alone. A man who couldn’t cry, even when he needed too… what kind of person was Hector, really?

Rubbing the remnants of tears from her eyes, Lyn turned to look out from the ship again. Despite the question hanging over her like a cloud, the quiet felt comfortable now as she stood beside Hector. They still didn’t quite understand each other, but now… at least they both knew. She hadn’t spoken into the void when sharing her past with him; he reacted, in his own, albeit misguided, Hector fashion. As it turned out, they were just two orphans trying to help a friend avoid the fate they fell victim to, so if anything, they would keep their silent half-understanding until this ordeal with the Black Fang was over, then part ways as unlikely allies who happened to know a little too much about the other. They didn’t have to get any closer than this – she’d made herself vulnerable enough.

A half hour or so of ocean-watching passed as the ship sailed southward, and the silence was broken by Hector’s low chuckle. “Look at that,” he said, gesturing down to the waters. It wasn’t anything especially beautiful, only some gulls diving down to pluck their dinner from the sea before darkness fell: a white streak fell to the surface of the water then floated back up into the air triumphantly. It was just life pushing on as it was supposed to.

And yet, despite the mundane sight and every one of Lyn’s reservations about Hector, she smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a year ago that Hector heard of Lyndis’ return to her mother’s homeland and reclaiming of her title as a noblewoman of Caelin. Uther had dragged him to a council meeting – it would be wise of him to be exposed to diplomacy, as a future marquess, he’d said – but Hector ignored his suggestion and sat in the rear of Ostia’s stuffy meeting hall, occupying himself by tapping his foot rather than pay attention to the representatives. After all, Uther’s attempts to indoctrinate him in the ways of politics were just his way of trying to play the role of their father - even though he’d taken the title a month ago, Uther wasn’t Father, and Hector wasn’t Uther, and Hector didn’t look forward to ascending to marquess anytime soon.

He caught bits and pieces of the conversation in between daydreams – a few generic, dull topics like the conditions in agricultural states and tax policies, and a lot about the passing of the former Head of the Lycian League and the new leadership of Lord Uther. Hector was nearly asleep until he heard his brother’s voice ask, “Is Lord Hausen well? I see he has not arrived.”

“He’s recovering from illness,” replied Marquess Tania. “An interesting story, I might add. It seems there was a conspiracy on part of his brother to remove Hausen from power, in order for Lundgren to take the throne. But before the plot could be executed completely, Lady Madelyn’s daughter returned from the Sacaen plains and dispatched Lundgren.”

“Lady Madelyn had a daughter?”

“Her name is Lyndis, after her grandmother. I suppose it is worth mentioning, with this being a council meeting, that she is now Caelin’s heir.”

The councilmen continued their discussion, but Hector’s mind remained on the topic of a woman who left the only land she knew to reclaim her birthright, who battled her own uncle in the name of justice… she sounded interesting, certainly more colorful than the other ladies of the court. Someone who didn’t wait for diplomacy and custom, but charged forward in the name of what was right: Hector could imagine her, a strong woman of the plains, riding into Lycia, shaking the earth with her will as she stamped out the disgusting corruption in the confederation. It was a fanciful idea, perhaps, but it was something like Hector wanted to be.

 _If_ he had to be marquess.

He mostly forgot about his mental picture of Lady Lyndis until he passed through Caelin with Eliwood en route to Laus. His friend described her as “striking”, which played right into what he’d heard from other noblemen about her seizure of the throne. But when he actually met her, when she rallied her troops together to defend her grandfather’s court, charging back to the castle with her knights…

Hector ran a hand through his almost-too-long hair as she watched her in the field. It was the first night that, thanks to Merlinus’ convoy, the Lycian army set up camp on the Dread Isle, and Hector was assigned (by his _good friend_ Eliwood, their informal commander by the fact it was his father they sought to rescue) to the first watch duty. He stood impatiently outside the collection of tents they set up in the clearing, watching the surrounding thicket for a complete lack of suspicious activity, save for that of a certain swordfighter practicing a few yards away from Hector’s post.

Lyndis rehearsed her swordplay in the blue light of evening, slashing through the air and dancing through the tall grasses, unintentionally slicing pieces of the growth into the breeze with the sacred Mani Katti. Her movements were fluid and flawless and light as the wind: she was a much further advanced swordsman than anyone else in their rag-tag legion. Even still, she still used the last moments of light to hone her skills.

To call her “striking” … the word didn’t quite fit. If anything, she was something more than that.

But how to describe her, then?

Suddenly, she stopped, holding her sword below her waist as her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. Other people – other men especially, virtuous men like Eliwood or Oswin even, would suggest she call it a night in order to preserve her stamina. But Hector felt he understood. This was the kind of woman Lyndis was; she wouldn’t stop when she was worn. She would stop when she was _done._

However, the sun was stronger than his and her willpower combined. “Ay, Lyn,” he called to her. “The sun is setting. You should go back to camp.”

She turned to him with the look on her face that she wanted to give a fierce retort, but only said, “I know that, Hector.”

Rather than have to shout back and forth, Hector strode through the grass to where she stood. So they’d had a fair amount of disagreements so far – the pirates, taking Ninian into their fold – but Hector didn’t want her to hate him. Which was odd. He never quite cared for what others thought of him, but in this case… he respected Lyndis, so something about the idea of her despising him unsettled him.

“You devote a lot to your practicing, don’t you?”

She didn’t look at him as she slipped the Mani Katti back into her belt; evidently, she planned on heading back in anyway. “My father taught me to practice hard, to test my limits every time. That’s the only way to really get stronger,” she replied, a hint of a smile on her face.

“Ah. Oswin would say the same sort of thing when I began training with armor.”

Lyn began to walk towards the camp. “But you were self-taught?”

“Self-taught with an axe,” he explained as he followed her. “My father didn’t seem to mind too much – I was away at school most of the time. Last year, my brother made me start officially training with the Ostian knights.”

“Lord Uther? I met him when he visited Caelin, not long ago. He’s very… unlike you.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, for one, your brother actually has an ounce of patience in him,” she quipped. “He seems to be more thorough and calm, too. Like he actually thinks before opening his mouth.”

They reached the place Hector had been assigned for guard duty, and he fell back into his position with his arms crossed across his chest. “Hah!” he laughed. “I suppose it’s a good thing I don’t aspire to be like him, then.”

Lyndis paused and looked up at him – surprisingly, there wasn’t too much of a height difference between them, at least not like there was between him and Eliwood. “Who do…” she began, but stopped. “That’s a very noble attitude of you to have, _Lord Hector_.”

“Thank you, _Lady Lyndis_.” His eyes narrowed at her sarcasm.

“I’m going to find Florina, since we’re to share a tent. Good night.” With that, Lyn turned on her heels and into the camp.

Hector watched her walk away instead of surveying the exterior was he was supposed to. What was it she was going to say before she cut herself off? Who do…

Who did he want to be?

What an excellent question.


	4. Chapter 4

Florina slept soundly beside her on their shared bedroll, but Lyndis couldn’t find sleep to save her life. Her eyes wandered the roof of the tent, only slightly illuminated by moonlight seeping through the off-white fabric. Why couldn’t she sleep? She needed to if the troops were to rise at dawn to enter the forest…

Damn Hector. Her thoughts kept wandering to that last bit of their exchange.

_Who do you want to be?_

She’d nearly asked him, but wisely cut herself off. The type of conversation that phrase invited was too intimate for her to entertain with him. Granted, he’d seen her cry, and she’d told him most everything that had bothered her for the past two years, but she’d done it out of frustration with his ignorance. But then the way he reacted to her, sharing his own experience… she supposed he had earned her trust.

Trust. Not approval.

She wasn’t working together with him to befriend him. They were to find Marquess Elbert, stomp out this Black Fang, and return to Lycia; they shared a sense of duty to their country and to Eliwood. That was all.

Lyndis shut her eyes.

 _Trust, not approval_ , she reminded herself. _Trust._


	5. Chapter 5

She caught Hector’s blue eyes across the chaos between them, the world falling apart as Eliwood begged his father to remain with them.

They failed. There was a single, primary objective to their journey across land and sea, and they failed. They failed, they failed, they failed.

He didn’t cry then, either.


	6. Chapter 6

_Little Lyn… Little Lyn… Poor girl…_

She needn’t open her eyes to realize what happened. Her own injuries were tended to – she felt the compression of bandages around her broken ribs and twisted ankle, the warm burn of herbal remedies to the wound across the side of her stomach. Those bastards, the Taliver, must have soaked the tips of their weapons in poison, too – not just the water. Lyn should have died of infection.

She wasn’t dead.

_Elmine bless her… when will she wake? She doesn’t know…_

She survived. But the world felt empty now, like flat, open plains, not another soul in sight… her entire tribe was gone. Her father, her entire family – they sacrificed themselves so she might escape.

Like a coward.

_So brave… it doesn’t seem that most of them even got the chance to fight back. Lyn, little Lyn… you fought back, and you escaped._

If she’d fought, things would be different. If she’d fought, she wouldn’t be alone.

_Your mother and father would be so proud._

So she needed to be stronger. Stronger in memory of her mother who collapsed after a drink of water with breakfast, stronger in memory of her father’s pain as he lifted her onto his horse, stronger in memory of the Lorca tribe…

Lyn’s eyes opened only a crack, and the tears wouldn’t stop falling.


	7. Chapter 7

The week-long journey back to the mainland felt as if it took a year to Lyn, but she could only imagine how drawn out it felt for Eliwood as he mourned, sleeping away most of their days at sea and remaining by his father’s corpse if he was awake. In fleeting glimpses of him in between the two, she tried to catch him, tried to check up on him and offer whatever encouragement she could, but was only met with weak smiles and shakes of the head before he left to lay down again. What was once a spark inspiring an army to the Dread Isle burned itself out at the Dragon’s Gate and was now nothing more than low embers – it was all Lyndis could do to pray they didn’t lose him.

She didn’t blame him for acting like this. She knew how it felt, and so did Hector, who she had surprisingly had no quarrel with the entire trip back. He wasn’t as closed up as Eliwood, but Leila was in the service of House Ostia… he was surely grieving in his own way.

The peace between them helped as the leadership temporarily shifted from four pairs of shoulders to three; all decision-making on the way back was the responsibility of Lyndis, Hector, and Marc. They all worked together smoothly, and no major obstacles impeded them on the return journey, but the heaviness that hung over them couldn’t be ignored, even when they got out of that dreadful, foggy forest.

Hector finally verbalized it, one afternoon when she found herself beside him on the deck after a meeting with Marc and Fargus. “We were supposed to have the marquess with us,” he said, his voice low, nearly a grumble; if anyone else was on deck, they couldn’t hear him. His eyes rested on the sea, just like their first night on the Davros – since then, the two had made a daily habit of leaning against that rail to discuss matters. With Eliwood’s absence, the meeting between the other two lords felt necessary.

Lyn turned to him, noticing the dark splotches of skin hanging under his eyes. Even the invincible lord of Ostia was fatigued by the emotional atmosphere of their company.

 _I wanted nothing more than to cry like a little baby. And yet, I couldn’t cry… Not in front of others. And when I was alone, I found I still couldn’t._ Something about his confession of his parents’ deaths stuck with Lyndis, and she couldn’t quite forget how he’d explained it. At first, she’d chalked his apparent apathy up to pride, but in seeing how he reacted to the loss of his allies with sleepless nights and frustrated musings, she changed her mind. It couldn’t be just pride. Given all they’d been through already, pride was far too simple an answer for Hector, as was ignorance and immaturity and everything else she’d assumed about him.

What, then?

She bent over, supporting herself on the rail with her forearms. “It… almost seems as if this was all in vain,” she said. “We went through all this for Eliwood’s father… he didn’t deserve anything like…”

“He doesn’t.” From the corner of her eye, Lyndis saw Hector clench his fist atop the rail. “And I won’t let this Nergal fellow get away with masterminding it all.”

“Then you can sense it too? The foreboding air of the island never left, not even when Elbert stabbed Nergal…”

He nodded. “His minions survive. Matthew wasn’t able to find peace because Leila’s killer is still walking around somewhere… damn.” The force of Hector’s fist hitting the rail startled Lyndis, and she turned to him again with wide eyes. “It isn’t… fair, at all, for it to end like this.”

She’d said something similar two years ago, when she woke up in the care of a tribe that was not her own. They knew her, of course – she was the chieftain’s daughter. But if anything she should have awoken in the arms of her own tribe, worn from a hard fought victory over the Taliver bandits.

That, or she should have died alongside them.

But she hadn’t died, and neither had Hector or Eliwood or Marc. “I suppose that means our journey together is far from over, then,” she said. “It’s up to us, now, to finish this battle as it should be finished, to ensure Lord Elbert didn’t die in vain.”

Slowly, Hector’s tight frown lifted at the corners into a smile. “You have good sense, Lyn.”

“As opposed to being irrational?” She scoffed. “I’d hope not!”

“It’s not just that you’re sane! It’s… well, I can’t explain it, but you know! It’s how you are!”

Lyn rolled her eyes as she began walking to the lower decks. “It’s nearly dinner time. We’ve got to make sure Eliwood doesn’t starve himself…”

With a heavy sigh, Hector gave up whatever it was he was trying to describe and accompanied her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i meant to answer some vagueness in the canon but HECK i dont even know what happened to ninian and marc in this scene
> 
> anyways
> 
> it may or may not get more shippy from here on out (probably as i shift into hector's pov some more)

They convened at the first inn they came across after returning to Badon, where all six of them – the siblings, Marc, Hector, Lyndis, and Eliwood – gathered around a table in the pub without ordering anything, just speaking, reconnecting and making sense of all that happened in the year since Lyn’s path first collided with Ninian and Nils. They were the ones who did the most explaining, detailing all that they knew: about Nergal, the dragons, quintessence, and the plot against Lycia. Eliwood paid close attention to what they said, trying to ensure he understood it all, but his calm demeanor fell as Nils went on, his lips sinking into a frown and his gaze resting on the table below him.

Nils noticed. Eliwood had barely crawled out of total despair when they reached Lycia – perhaps there was a certain comfort his homeland provided – but talk of his father’s passing stung at unhealed wounds. “…Your father told us that he had a son,” Nils said, attempting to compensate for the details he’d shared of the horrors of the Dragon’s Gate. “He said you were blessed with natural fighting ability. But he also told us you were compassionate and disdained fighting. He told us that his son would be a better ruler than he was… that he would sooner sacrifice himself than see his homeland, Lycia, embroiled in the flames of war.”

“…That’s…” Eliwood stuttered.

Only twice had Lyndis met Lord Elbert in the year she’d lived in Lycia. He was just another one of the noblemen who came to meet with her grandfather, but hearing Nils describe him, she was reminded that he wasn’t just that. He was a father. He was Eliwood’s father, and now he was gone, having given himself for the sake of his son and his people…

She pressed a hand her lips to stop them from quivering. She was too familiar with the pain of such a loss and the isolation that accompanied it – Elbert had done what was best, acting with the kind of nobility one could only dream of, but at what cost?

Nils gave a reassuring smile from across the table. “When we’d lost all hope at the Dragon’s Gate, your father always spoke to us of happy things,” he said. “Well, he mainly spoke of his cherished son and his dear wife, but Ninian and I… we loved him very much. His stories about his family… they saved us.”

Ninian looked down, running her fingers over her knuckles.

“Oh, Fa-... Father…” Eliwood managed to say, his shoulders slumping, his lips tightening. Though Nils was surely trying to be consoling, his sentiment for Lord Elbert was a reminder for Eliwood that his father was gone from this world, and would only make him miss him more. Whatever calmness he’d put on for the sake of their conversation was near its breaking point.

Without a word, Hector pushed his chair out from the table and rose.

Lyn tilted her head to him from her place beside his seat, brows pressed with a question. “…Hector?”

“We should let him be alone for a while…” he said, his voice much quieter that it normally was – almost sensitive.

“…Sure.” Lyn gave another concerned glance to Eliwood before standing, pushing in her chair, and turning to follow Hector outside. It was a relief to free herself from the tension - the discussion hit a bit too close for her, too. “Come on, Ninian, Nils,” she added before leaving.

The twins lagged behind as Hector and Lyn walked past mostly empty tables and towards the exit – with the sun set and word of the recent turmoil between the states already spread, the citizens of the normally peaceful nation were on edge. After all, there were bandits and adversaries on the loose, and anything could happen under the shroud of nightfall.

A street lamp stood just outside the inn, a small comfort in a dreary and threatening world. “… Is that okay? Hector?” Lyn asked as she gravitated toward the light.

A step ahead of her, Hector turned and leaned against the lamp, his hair fading from black to blue as he stepped into the light. Without his armor – he’d reluctantly left it with the innkeeper when she’d complained about how its rattling would rouse her guests – Lyndis could see how exhaustion from the episode at the Dread Isle lingered on him. Even though he was larger than her, he always appeared oddly smaller without his gear. But with sagging shoulders and a drained expression, the difference between the man standing before her and the one she met on a frantic day in Caelin last month couldn’t be any more drastic.

His eyebrows rose as he registered Lyn’s question. “Huh?”

“…Shouldn’t you go with him?” He was Eliwood’s closest friend, and – though he wouldn’t admit to such an emotional reaction – he empathized with his situation. The stress pressing down on Eliwood was undoubtedly taking its toll on Hector, too, perhaps more so than anyone else in their ranks. 

But he didn’t move to act on her suggestion.

“Mmm… thought about it, but…” By the tone of his voice, she half expected him to smirk, but instead he matched his weary blue eyes to her gaze and lifted his hand to rest it on her shoulder. Lyndis flinched slightly under the touch. “There was someone else who looked ready to start crying, too.”

She held eye contact with him for a moment longer. What inspired him to act so… she couldn’t write him off as apathetic, but it wasn’t like him to show that he cared. Not with her. She certainly didn’t give him much more geniality than she needed to give an ally, yet…

“…Oh,” she mumbled, blushing and darting her eyes to the floor. “You noticed…?”

“Your lips were quivering. I just thought you wouldn’t want to complicate the situation.”

“Well, I’m not crying now.” She forced a quiet laugh and a thin smile. “Hector… what’s gotten into you? It’s not like you to…”

He pulled his hand away and crossed his arms, giving a sigh as he did so. “It’s not like you to not pull away, either.”

“What?”

“I don’t know… I know you’re always angry with me, but we’re in this for the same reasons. We should start acting like friends, for Eliwood’s sake.”

Slowly, she looked up at him – he still looked to her, waiting for a response. To act as friends… it sounded like he cared about her the same way he cared about Eliwood, even though he hadn’t known her nearly as long. She understood what he meant by friendship, but something about it still confused her, as did most things about Hector.

It was an odd feeling, as if she was on the cusp of _something,_ something that she couldn’t quite pin down with a title.

She smiled at him and opened her mouth to reply, but the creaking of the inn door behind them told her that the others were finally coming out, and she turned around. “Hey!” she heard Nils’ voice call. “Ninian’s gone! Where’d she go? I’ll go and look…”

The boy started off to wander into the darkness, but Hector caught him by the shoulder before he passed them. “Hold on! Your sister’s been through a lot, too. Let her be for a while.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what she’s been through!” Nils spat with surprising conviction for someone who couldn’t be much into his teens.

Hector’s eyes widened at the retort, and Lyn had to suppress a chuckle. She’d told him nearly the same thing when they’d first boarded Fargus’ ship.

A sigh through his nose told her that Hector made the same recollection. “So, what do we do now?” he asked.

“…I wonder what happened to Nergal,” Lyn mentioned. The thought concerned her since they left the Dread Isle, and if anyone had any more knowledge about the ordeal, it was Nils. “Lord Elbert gave him a grievous wound when he stabbed him.”

“His wounds will not kill him.” As she’d suspected.

“That’s what Lord Elbert said, too,” Hector said. “Do you know what he meant?”

Nils tilted his head downwards, nearly shrouding his maroon eyes with long cerulean bangs. “…Nergal uses quintessence on himself as well,” he answered, not much above a mumble. “His wounds heal quickly… His body does not age.”

The corners of Lyn’s lips pulled down tightly. “So he isn’t… human?”

“… If nothing else he’s…Ah!” Before he could finish his proposition, Nils clutched his head with a pained expression. He faltered on his right side, but Lyn acted quickly to catch him before he collapsed.

“What is it?” Hector asked.

“C-call everyone!” Nils stammered. “Enemies approach!”

“Bah.” To Lyn’s surprise, Hector only shrugged at the warning, rather than racing off to battle as he usually did when anyone made the slightest mention of a call to arms. “Eliwood deserves a little more time to rest…”

Lyndis ensured that Nils was steady on his feet, and then turned to Hector. “Well then, we’ll have to handle this ourselves, shall we?” she suggested to him, eliciting a cunning smile from her ally. She matched it in return. “As friends.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops i cut eliwood and ninian out and gave their dialogue to other characters :^)
> 
> i don't like writing out the game script BUT it does make dialogue a heck of a lot easier, and i was pleasantly surprised at how I could fit their a-support into this scene. this is mostly a connecting chapter i suppose. 
> 
> writing hector feels a little bit awkward tbh but i think it's bc compared to lyn, he's a lot less emotive

There were only two explicit conditions for the journey to Nabata, as left by Uther: that the army meet with the “living legend”, and that Hector return alive. The way his brother added that last request reminded him of Lyn and how she complained about his recklessness, but it was by far the easier of the two to fulfill. After all, Hector – their whole legion, actually – was strong enough to make it out of the desert, especially after surviving the Dread Isle.

But the “living legend”? Even Hector didn’t know what his brother was talking about.

He surveyed the wasteland before them in hopes of some sign, but to no avail - all he could see for miles was heat reflecting off stretches of pale sand under an empty blue sky. They hadn’t stopped moving since their return to the mainland, travelling from Badon, to Ostia, then westward out of Lycia in rapid succession, and the journey was certainly beginning to take its toll. Ninian and Eliwood had fallen behind, but seeing as the girl was of the fragile sort, Hector let them be and remained at the front with Lyndis and Nils.

“…So hot…” the younger complained, sagging under the weight of the radiation. “I’m… going to die.”

Hector chuckled. “Hey, do you want me to carry you on my back?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Nils had made the most peculiar expression at his proposition, halting in the sand and gaping at Hector as if he were mad.

His gape mellowed into a sly grin. “Such kindness from you surprised me, Lord Hector. Is this some fever dream?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I was concerned that you might collapse again, like the other day.”

A hand pressed against his arm, and Hector turned to see that it belonged to none other than Lyndis. “You’re usually so brusque. It’s no wonder he’s confused,” she said matter-of-factly.

He opened his mouth to retort, but decided against it.

“Don’t be shy, Nils. Let him help you out.”

“…But…”

“Do as you’re told, boy!” Hector demanded as he swept Nils upon his shoulders, attempting to reestablish his “brusqueness” by not waiting for Nils to answer.

Lyn tilted her head back and laughed naturally as she walked beside them. He wasn’t quite sure when, but somewhere along their journey – somewhere along days upon weeks of travelling over land and sea – she stopped hating him.

He’d noticed it for certain when she suddenly asked to train with him, not long after they left Ostia for Missur. Even though he gave her fair warning about the unevenness of fighting him in his full gear, when Hector emerged from that first sparring match as the victor, he’d still expected a disdainful glare and fiery critique of his fighting style. Yet Lyndis was calm, looking down at the defeated Mani Katti and remarking only, “This is about me, my limits. I can’t be a burden to either you or Eliwood right now. I can fight. And I will get stronger.”

Hector was, once again, in awe.

He glanced at her. She kept fairly close, perhaps as a precaution in the treacherous desert, but he’d noticed that the distance between them had diminished, bit by bit, ever since they left the Dread Isle. Now he saw much more of her, like how her long green hair shone emerald after she’d washed it, how her earthy, olive skin stood out against the near-white desert sand, how the scent of the plains – crisp grass and clean air - lingered on her.

Something about that – the closeness – made him think.

“Say, Lyn…” he began. “Do you remember when we first met?”

She looked over to him, squinting her eyes through the bright, dusty air. “I do, I remember it well,” she explained. “It was when the castle was taken by Lord Laus. My grandfather had been taken prisoner. And you and Eliwood came to the rescue. Then, together, we fought the armies of Laus.”

“Lyn.” She’d answered as accurately as a textbook, but it wasn’t the answer he looked for. “Why are we together now?”

“Well…”

“Because we’re friends, right? Say if you were much stronger than I was... Would that make me useless to you?”

“No…” Her jade eyes looked down, and she paused for a moment, likely contemplating her loss in the spar with Hector. “Of course not.”

“Fighting isn’t everything on this journey, you know. If fighting was everything, what use would we have of Merlinus?” He chuckled under his breath – _he_ was one to claim that fighting wasn’t everything.

“Well, I suppose…”

“You are strong – I can vouch for that. Just, I was stronger.”

“Hah!” Lyn laughed, crossing her arms and stopping suddenly, planting her boots in the sand.

“W-what!?”

She wiped a stray tear from her eye. “You’re too much—Saying that kind of thing with a straight face.”

“You gotta problem with my face?” Hector asked. So much for that. “I’ve just gotta be me, you know...”

“Yes, I know,” Lyn replied, and gave a gentle smile, looking up at him through wisps of green hair falling over her forehead. “...Thanks. I didn’t think you cared so much about how I felt. Or is Hector gentler at heart than Hector looks? You’ve certainly done much for my courage today.”

“Hmph…” Despite how much he hated the hostility of the desert, Hector thanked Saint Elmine for the heat, because otherwise he’d have no excuse for the sudden blush across his cheeks – she’d never given him any sort of compliment like that. “I’m not this way to just anyone, you know...” he said, his voice trailing to a mumble.

“What?”

Though Nils had been quiet in the meantime, causing no more disturbance than playing with Hector’s hair, he spoke before Hector could even think of a response for Lyn. “Over there… Someone is under attack.”

Lyn cut off the conversation with Hector, whipping her head in the direction Nils pointed and pressing her hand to her head in a salute to shield her vision from the sun. “Looks like… a lone man and a crowd of bandits,” she remarked. “Let’s help him! I dislike seeing someone facing overwhelming odds!” And before Hector could do anything, she was off, running towards the distant figure with her long, green hair bouncing against her back.

“Hold on, Lyn!” he exclaimed, scrambling to lift Nils off his shoulders and place him safely on the ground. “I’m going with you!”

“Hector! Hurry! I’m going to leave you behind!”

He chased after her, towards the battle being waged across the dunes. “…This…is as fast… as I can go!” Hector grumbled. Despite the result of their duel earlier, she was far stronger than him in this situation, unhindered by heavy gear or anything else for that matter - she was the type to charge forward in the name of what was right, and he admired that. “I’ve got…this armor…on and… Blast! Slow down! Show-off!”

If only he could keep up with her.


	10. Chapter 10

Miles of long, tawny grasses surrounded him, swaying gently in the breeze, parting as he ran through the fields.

Where was she?

She was out here somewhere; he knew this much. The emptiness wasn’t loud enough to shroud her steadfast, vivid presence – it wasn’t that she was foreign to the plains, but rather a part of them, dancing seamlessly through them like a ripple on the water.

She was out here somewhere; she was out here _everywhere,_ her presence surrounding him at every side.

And yet, he couldn’t reach her.


	11. Chapter 11

“Lord Hector?”

Groggily, Hector looked over at Marc, who was in much too bright spirits for so early in the morning.

“He didn’t sleep well last night, I think,” Eliwood answered for him. “He was still awake when I fell asleep, and I felt him get up during the night, too.”

Only because of his conversation with Oswin the previous evening. _“Don’t trouble Lord Eliwood by being overly obstinate,”_ his brother Uther advised though his knight, obviously more concerned with keeping Hector in his place as a child than keeping him informed about the situation in Ostia. Uther’s unnatural paleness, the unrelenting cough he’d exhibited during their brief stay in the castle… Hector wasn’t a dunce. He knew his brother was ill, and yet he didn’t think to include him in the issue, unless it was just Oswin’s doing.

Thinking about what Uther told him – what he hadn’t told him, actually – kept him up late at night. When he finally did fall asleep, Hector couldn’t even find a peaceful rest, enduring instead a vague and peculiar dream that roused him too early from his slumber. He tried to shrug it off and fall back asleep, but something about it bothered him, nagging at his thoughts all morning. It was a lot like how he’d been bothered by weird dreams before – just last week, he’d confided to Eliwood a dream he’d had about a ginger-haired boy and an indigo-haired girl - but there was little about the dream he actually recalled beside the odd feeling that he was looking for something he couldn’t find – but what? What was he searching for?

“A little walk would do you well, I think,” Marc said, calling Hector out of his daze. “Can you go fetch Lyn, please? Before we depart for the manse, I believe we need to have a discussion.”

Hector groaned. “Why me? I can’t just barge into a woman’s tent because you want to have a meeting.”

“She isn’t in her tent,” Eliwood said. “Unlike you, she woke up early to train – I saw her walking west of camp when I rose.”

Typical of Lyn. She was a bit of a perfectionist in that way, always looking to make herself stronger even though no one else came close to matching her in swordplay, not even Eliwood. “Fine then, I’ll go get her,” Hector conceded, and turned to walk out of the camp.

He expected to find her as he usually did, dancing about in a clearing by herself or sparring with her knights, Kent and Sain, but the overwhelming presence of Bern’s highlands and mountains left them with little clearing for anything besides their tents. That would explain why when he did find her, she was standing atop a low hill with Rath, one of the only other Sacaeans in their company.

Hector did a double take.

She was not standing beside him, but in his arms as he held her from behind. In her hands was a bow and arrow – she looked straight ahead at the weapon as Rath calmly repositioned her hands around it, showing her the proper form. Hector was too far to make out the conversation, but he saw Rath – who had barely spoken two words to him, ever – say something to Lyn, who laughed in return and adjusted her arms again.

Something about it bothered him.

“Ay! Lyn!” he called, interrupting her reply to Rath. “Marc wants to have a meeting!”

Startled by his voice, Lyn turned to Hector and frowned. She then said something to Rath before handing the bow back to him and jogging down the incline and over to where Hector waited with his arms crossed. “Good morning,” she told him, already past him and headed toward the center of camp.

Hector let his arms fall to his sides as he matched Lyn’s pace. “Good morning to you too. Why were you up so early?”

“Oh, training as usual.”

“With Rath?”

Lyn stopped walking. “…Is there something _wrong_ with me training with him? He’s only showing me archery. What, are you jealous that I train with people other than you?”

“No!” For a moment, Hector looked away, praying that Lyn didn’t catch the blush across his cheeks. “I mean… why archery? You’re our best swordsman, anyway.”

“Unfortunately, swordplay isn’t the most appropriate skill for noblewomen,” she replied as she began to move again. “I wanted to become a more versatile fighter, but Grandfather has been having me… _assimilate_ to the court. I’m no good at painting china or playing the harp or anything like that so I figured I’d try taking up something that suited me better – something I could use in battle and as a ‘hobby’ suiting a lady. Lady Louise suggested it, actually, since she said she does the same thing.”

It did make sense, he supposed. Lyn was next in line to the title, but knowing how stuffy the Lycian nobility was, she wouldn’t be accepted if she couldn’t act the part, especially as a woman. And yet… “You aren’t much like a noblewoman,” Hector mused.

“Excuse me?” Once again, Lyn stopped walking, but this time turned to face Hector with her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. “If you haven’t noticed, Lord Hector, I have just as much of a title as you do.”

“I know that! It’s not that you aren’t a noble, it’s just… you’re… you’re different! You aren’t like- “

“I’m me, the unrefined Sacaean, aren’t I?” she scoffed, and left Hector’s side. “Come. We shouldn’t leave Marc waiting. We’re to take the Fire Emblem to the queen today.”

Uther’s furtiveness, the dream’s ambiguity, Lyn’s obstinacy… frustrated, Hector followed her, allowing her to get ahead.  How could she not see it? She was different from the other nobles, not because she was an outsider but because she was genuine and steadfast and intuitive, the kind of noblewoman who was down-to-earth rather than lofty and ignorant. She cared deeply for the well-being of others. She refused to bend her personal values. She respected her family, not to honor their title but to honor their valor. She was everything a noblewoman should be.

“The Noblewoman of Caelin” – that’s what Hector had heard her referred to as, from time to time, in Lycian villages. If only they knew – if only Lyn knew – how much more was behind her title.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I almost forgot about his supports with Eliwood,,,,,)
> 
> So we're jumping ahead in the timeline a ways :> I'm kinda making conjectures as far as archery goes but like... it makes sense to me since Louise is a highly respected noble and we don't see any other noblewomen who are fighters outside of mages and archers (I think? I just want to get this chapter out of the way man)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update :> I know no one's reading, but I'm trying to keep myself on a schedule of weekly updates... I need to get better at writing regularly.
> 
> This is the gaiden chapter where Nino goes and fights Sonia, where there's some special dialogue in hector's mode. After this, we're finally getting to parts I wanted to write when I started this fic (yay)

Hector had been getting on Lyn’s nerves lately.

Granted, it was normal for them to bicker with each other, but for the past few months it was _just_ that – friendly jabs at each other in between training and traveling from Nabata, through Lycia, and now into Bern. With Hector’s jealously over her lesson with Rath the other day, Lyn began to really notice how suddenly tense the air between them was.

She was sure she hadn’t done anything in particular to disturb their relationship; she’d only gone about what she’d normally done, and Hector decided to act slightly agitated at her when he saw her with Rath. She ignored it at first – giving him the benefit of the doubt, she figured something else may have ticked him off – but then he questioned her status as a lady of Lycia, and Lyn found herself in a foul mood with Hector as well. Though it was months ago that she came to realize Hector didn’t care for matters of nobility and hierarchy, the encounter reminded him who he was – a prince.

They were so different in that respect. Where Lyn learned to fight because she had to and returned to Caelin out of duty to her grandfather, Hector was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He got to teach himself to fight because he _wanted_ to, and living up to his inheritance was as simple as continuing his normal life in Ostia – perhaps he acted down-to-earth, but as Lyn was reminded, he was still noble-born.

It was earlier that day that she finally figured out why he was especially on edge: the issue of Jaffar. No doubt the Black Fang – the scoundrels responsible for Leila and Elbert’s deaths, as well as the turmoil erupting in Lycia and around Elibe – bothered him on an emotional level with their ever-presence in Bern as they travelled through, but now Eliwood, Marc, and herself agreed to let the assassin Jaffar join their ranks with Nino. Putting trust in him bothered Lyn too, but seeing how he acted with the poor little girl who was misguided and manipulated into the schemes of the Fang, she felt, deep down, he could redeem himself. Eliwood himself asserted that Jaffar didn’t commit his crimes of his own volition, but under the will of Nergal, and (albeit reluctantly) Lyn agreed in extending clemency to him.

But no matter what they said, Hector wouldn’t budge. His grudge against Jaffar as a murderer couldn’t be quelled in their discussion – well, more of an argument – and Lyn only became more agitated with his stubbornness. “He has killed my friends,” he asserted as the three of them gathered in the evening, trying to decide how to deal with Nino’s sudden disappearance from camp. Not an ounce of remorse was spared in his sharp words and glowering eyes. “He is my enemy. No matter what happens, that will never change.”

“So you’ll let them die?” Lyn asked incredulously.

“That’s not what I said!” he snapped. “I want him to stay alive. He must live… so that he can suffer for all he’s done! There! Satisfied?”

Lyn didn’t have a response.

What he said – explaining why he couldn’t simply give up his grudge – took her back to a few months prior, when she’d wept in front of him on a pirate ship. The reluctance she felt back then… Lyn was certain it was something like what Hector felt now. He couldn’t trust Jaffar because it was a betrayal to the memory of Leila, to Marquess Pherae, to the knights, to all the people who were killed unfairly in Nergal’s ruthlessness. When she framed it like that, she understood. She was still irritated with Hector for being obstinate and borderline rude, but she understood.

So she barely spoke to him as they proceeded into the Water Temple after Nino and Jaffar, jogging alongside him as Eliwood lead the way. The tension between them was still obvious, but surprisingly, it was Hector who attempted to break the silence as they navigated the labyrinthine halls of the temple, following the sounds of a skirmish ahead.

“Lyn… I’m sorry.”

Lyn glanced at her partner, who still had his eyes facing ahead at the path before them. “You said that earlier too. Since when are you so apologetic?”

“It’s not just that – I was only talking about my ranting then.” Hector gave a heavy breath. “It’s you. I wasn’t fair to you when you were training with Rath the other day, and I got angry.”

“… Why are you telling me this? Hector… I’m not sure I understand.”

But as usual, their conversation was cut short by gods-knew-what sort of commotion as they emerged into the central chamber of the temple. “I won’t allow that!” they heard Eliwood shout as he raced ahead to where Jaffar stood protectively between Sonia and Nino. “Nino! Jaffar! Are you okay?”

Lyn hadn’t caught what was said before, but judging by Eliwood’s reaction, a battle between the assassin and Sonia was imminent, and the Lycian commander was not afraid to intervene. “Bah,” Hector scoffed. If anything, he’d temporarily given up his disdain for Jaffar in favor of his trust in his friend’s decision. “Look at all the trouble you’ve caused!”

Sonia laughed, a sinister grin stretching across her visage as golden eyes savored the sight of her potential victims. “Such sweet friends, Nino…” she said. “Sorry to cut short your little reunion. Ha ha… I won’t let you get away. To a man, you will all die!”

With that, the ground rattled beneath them, and Lyn immediately lost her footing, yelping as the floor disappeared; there was no way to grab hold of what had been erased by Sonia’s magic. For a split second, she couldn’t think – surely she was falling.

It was Hector who grabbed her.

He took her by the arm first, his hand latching on reflexively and forcefully, and pulled her against his body. Lyn’s heart hammered against her chest – it had stopped beating in the seconds the ground fell from beneath her – and with her ear pressed against Hector’s chest, she heard the frantic resound of his as well.

All she knew, for that moment, was Hector’s beating heart and his hand supporting her head against him as her breathing gradually steadied. “The place is filling with water…” he said, the low tones of his voice pulsing against her ear.

“Hector…”

Why? The sudden attack from Sonia left her shaken, but Hector…

He tilted his head down from surveying the temple’s transformed interior to better face Lyn. “Hm?”

This wasn’t like him. It wasn’t like her, either.

“Th-thank you,” she said, failing in her attempt to keep her voice from trembling. “For… helping.”

He nodded. “Mm… did you get wet?”

“I’m fine.”

Color spread on Hector’s face, and Lyn chalked it up to being the consequence of the chaotic situation around them – that’s why she had to hide her own blush by keeping her head tilted down in his chest. “That’s good,” he said; despite the impending battle, his voice was softer than usual.

“Hector…” she managed. “Why are you being so nice all of a sudden? Are you okay?”

There was another moment in which Lyn forgot about what was going on around her, in which, for all she knew, the sorceress wasn’t wreaking havoc and Nino wasn’t crying Eliwood wasn’t rallying their allies. She looked to Hector, expecting a response, and realized just how _close_ they were, how him helping her and holding her tight now felt so different, so odd, so new, compared to how their friendship felt for the past month… the past year? How long had it been since she came to know him? They’d grown familiar to the point she’d come to expect that he wouldn’t hesitate to save her – she wouldn’t hesitate to save him, either. But now… after his reaction to her being with Rath, after his attempt at an apology, after her realization that they had more similarities than they knew… in his arms, she wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or flustered or agitated.

Yet at the same time, she knew she didn’t want to let go.

Eliwood’s voice startled her out of her distraction, though she couldn’t quite make out what he was shouting, save for something about “Hector” and “Lyn” and “help”. Hector reacted immediately, releasing Lyn from his arms and running ahead into the battle. Without a pause, she followed him, as was business as usual – as if the odd sensation didn’t cling to her, as if nothing happened between the two of them. They were partners in battle, that was all. They trusted each other immensely, and that was all they would ever need out of the other.


	13. Chapter 13

Early the next morning, the deafening sound of Hector’s sneezing roused half the camp. Normally, he gathered with the other lords at dawn, but on this occasion they met without Hector under the assumption that he would be fine under the care of their clerics – as his tent-mate, Eliwood immediately called for Serra and left her with him. But not even a half hour later, it was Priscilla’s timid hand that peeled back the flap of Marc’s tent and hesitantly interrupted the lords’ meeting.

“Um…” She cleared her throat. “Lord Eliwood, Lady Lyndis…”

 “Oh, gods… it’s Hector, isn’t it?” Eliwood sighed. Out of everyone in the army, he never fell ill – at least until that point – and evidently, no one was prepared for the mayhem that was a “Hector cold”.

Priscilla nodded. “Serra couldn’t handle him… so I thought perhaps you might be of some help.”

“What’s wrong with him? Doesn’t he only have a cold?” Lyn asked, looking up from the Elibian map spread out between herself and her comrades to the ginger-haired lord beside her. “…That’s what you told me, anyway, Eliwood.”

He forced a tight smile as he avoided Lyn’s puzzled gaze. “…Hector tends to be quite _temperamental_ …”

“We all knew that,” she scoffed. He was _always_ temperamental.

At this, Marc decided to give his input on their dilemma – no matter what the issue was, they could rely on him to always have an answer ready. “I propose that Lyn goes and checks on him, in that case,” he quipped.

“…Marc, I respect your solution, but I’m not exactly a cleric…”

“Yes, but our two designated clerics haven’t had any luck, so it may be better to have a friend attempt to speak reason to him. That leaves Eliwood and you, but Eliwood is too nice.”

Lyn sighed and rose from her seat on the floor. For the most part, she got along with Hector just fine, but sometimes it felt like Marc forced them together - even though Lyn was capable of cooperating just as efficiently (if not better) with plenty of other people in the army as well. “I’ll go then,” she announced. “Though bear in mind, this is Hector we’re speaking of. I can’t promise you anything.” Turning and leaving the tent, she heard Eliwood’s chuckle behind her and rolled her eyes – as if he was uninvolved with their absurd situation of being stalled by Hector’s cold! As their _commander,_ perhaps it was better if he cared for his friend, but Lyn respected Marc’s decision too much and went on her way without complaint.

She reached Hector’s tent in little time and didn’t waste any more on formalities, opening the fabric door and walking in without announcing herself first. “I hope you know, you’ve scared away both Serra and Priscilla,” she told him, looking down her nose at the lord who had yet to leave his bedroll.

Hector gave a pained smile. “Good morning to you, too.”

For someone who was normally so imposing, he looked rather useless from Lyn’s current perspective – the great Lord Hector, bundled up in a blanket on the floor of his tent, with groggy, half-opened eyes and a gross, red, runny nose. He’d seem vulnerable if he wasn’t so cranky, but still, a part of Lyn felt sorry for him. “…Are you feeling alright?” she asked.

“I feel fucking terrible, thank you,” he spat, though Lyn could barely make out his reply through his hoarse voice.

“Watch it. Nobility shouldn’t even know words like that.” She stepped closer to Hector and proceeded to sit down cross-legged beside his head, nudging his side once she reached to floor as a sort of reprimand for his language. “Is that why Serra left? Because you couldn’t control your foul tongue?”

“She’s so annoying…”

“Hector, you can’t just swear at our healers! Please, I know you have _some_ sort of self-control.”

“It isn’t my fault!” he grumbled as he crossed his arms. He was so agitated, it felt as if the room was filled with thick, low-lying storm clouds – no wonder he couldn’t get over his sickness. “I mean, I sneezed on her and she freaked out as if she’d never seen a cold before! Why did you guys even send for her! It’s not like magic heals colds – everyone knows that! There’s not a damn thing that it can do to make me better!”

“But you can take medicine, and you need to!” Lyn retorted. “You just insist on being difficult!”

“I just hate it, okay! I hate being useless like this, stuck on the ground and barely capable of even breathing right… I feel like I’m dying. But if I’m going to- “

“You’re not. Stop it,” Lyn interrupted. Without thinking, she placed her hand on his chest, as if it would get him to quit talking like that. “…Where did that even come from? Hector…”

He looked up at her with evening-sky eyes and an expression that softened slightly before it settled into a scowl again. “I just hate it, being useless like this. It’s stupid. If I die, I want it to be more memorable than a stuffed nose.”

“…You idiot.”

“What?”

“’If I die’ – Hector, if you die, you’ll be _dead._ It’s the same no matter how it happens.”

“So? Say I die, then. Then what?”

She didn’t understand what he meant, but didn’t have to ask, because apparently it was written in her scrunched eyebrows and gentle frown.

“What would you do?”

“Lord Hector!”

Lyn didn’t get a chance to respond before a pink-haired cleric barged into the tent. Suddenly, the wild force of Serra’s presence blew away the fog that had shrouded Lyn’s perception of the situation she’d walked in on – how her hand still rested on Hector’s broad chest, how she leaned over him like a concerned parent, her loose hair falling over her shoulders and spilling onto the sick man before her – and yanked herself away from him, pretending that nothing happened.

Serra, unfortunately, appeared to notice and gave a sly smirk. “Ah, Lyn, you’re checking up on the patient too? I’ll warn you, he’s quite unruly… but I found where Priscilla put the panacea. Here,” she said, and came up to Lyn to press a vial of potion into her hands. “He’ll listen to you better than me – make sure he drinks the entire bottle.”

“I’m right here. You don’t have to give me instructions through her, you know.”

“Hm? Oh, I’m sorry, is this the great lord Hector? The one who called his courteous cleric Serra such ugly words earlier, just because she tried to help him with his cold?” Turning on her heels, Serra began to walk away, disappearing with the swish of her white skirt through the opening of the tent. “I’ll leave you two, then. Thank you, Lyn!”

“That Serra…” Hector mumbled.

Lyn glanced upward, away from him, to compose herself. It wasn’t that they weren’t open about their friendship because everyone saw how they bickered back and forth, how they fought alongside each other so efficiently that Marc started using them as the example (even though no one else could quite replicate their “dynamic”, as Canas had pinned it). Their conversation had taken an oddly sentimental turn, and to have Serra walk in on that… it was awkward, to say the least.

“Is this why you’ve been acting so odd lately?” she finally asked.

Hector scoffed in defiance. “I’m still acting how I always act.”

“Really? Because I think you’ve been rather emotional lately. It’s not like you. So…” With the movement of her thumb, she took the cork off the panacea bottle. “Drink this.”

“Hmph. Thank you,” he finally obliged, and took the tonic from her. He drank it in one gulp to get it done with, but grimaced as he forcefully swallowed; clearly he’d made a poor, hasty decision, typical of Hector but amusing nonetheless.

Lyn held back a laugh to not insult him any more than he already felt. “You’d do well to get better soon. We need to start training together again.”

“You’re right…” Hector replied with a yawn.

“…Did you sleep last night?”

“Not at all…”

A smile, warm and relieved, spread on her lips. “You should sleep now. Stop trying to be so strong for a little while and get some rest… it’s for the best. Do you want me to leave you alone?”

Silently, Hector took her hand in both of his, holding it against his chest. “No…”

And so he dozed off, leaving Lyn in a tent that suddenly felt less like a messy storm and more like normal, clear skies and warm afternoons – quiet and serene and comfortable, just what Hector would need to sleep and convalesce. For a time, she simply stayed with him, watching his chest rise and fall under the blanket, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm, listening to the sounds of life persisting around them – the voices of friends, the songs of birds, the whistle of the wind.

She promised herself to keep the incident, as mundane as it was, as their little secret.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are finally there (!) 
> 
> I really wanted to write the scene and i'm sorry if it's super cheesy which it is :>

“Honestly, Hector, I’m surprised you wanted to learn swordplay. And more than that… I surprised you asked me and not – well, Eliwood is really worried about Ninian. It is best that we leave him be for a while.”

Lyn walked ahead of Hector, her long emerald braid swaying against her back as she led him to the clearing by the creek. With the issue of the Black Fang taken care of (despite the fact that the scoundrel Jaffar remained in their ranks), their business in Bern was effectively finished, and now their company hurried across the continent with new directions from Athos and strengthened determination to defeat Nergal and rescue Ninian. Currently, they were nearly at the Lycian border, having set up camp temporarily outside a Bernese village in order to restock supplies, which gave everyone in the army a chance to breathe after the stress of the past few weeks – meaning Hector and Lyn could both take time to train as they normally did, without being rushed along in the journey to the Western Isles.

“I trust you, and I like the way you fight, that’s all,” he replied. “You’re right, though, about Eliwood. I haven’t seen him so on edge like this before.”

Having emerged into the small clearing – a distance enough from the camp that they didn’t risk bothering anyone, in the space where the trees of the surrounding woodland broke away to allow for a creek to run through – Lyn stopped. “It only makes sense, with it being Ninian, after all.”

“What about Ninian? Nergal snatched her and we’re going to save her, right?”

“Obviously, but more than that… don’t you see it?”

“See what?”

“Hector…” Lyn sighed and pulled her sword from her side. “Eliwood’s your best friend. I expected you’d be able to tell that he’d fallen in love.”

His mouth fell open at the proposition. “In love?” he asked, but after taking a moment to consider it, it made sense: it seemed that any free moment Eliwood had was spent with the dancer, talking with her and attempting to make her laugh. He’d changed in the process, as Hector caught him on too many occasions staring into space and smiling at nothing – a love-sick fool, he now realized, charmed by delicate little Ninian.

“Anyway,” Lyn said with a roll of her eyes, retrieving Hector out of his thoughts about another man’s love. “That seal Athos gave you blessed you with some divine power? Let’s see it. I know you already know the basics of the blade, so I think it’s best that we start with a sparring match, to see where we stand.”

With a shrewd grin, Hector drew his own sword, a heavy steel blade he borrowed from Eliwood that contrasted sharply with the agile Mani Katti in appearances only – in Lyn’s hands, the lighter sword was just as fatal as a heavier one, if not more so. “A friendly spar as always, then?”

She didn’t hesitate a beat to respond to his invitation, surging forward like wind over the plains to meet her blade with his. Real weapons – that was how they always fought, steel clashing against steel in a clear, metallic song, each beat right after the other in perfect tempo. They were both skilled past the point of using wooden practice weapons, and they trusted each other well enough to know they wouldn’t wind up on the wrong end of the other’s sword on the chance they slipped up and left themselves open to a fatal blow.

“You’re still so reckless when you fight,” Lyn said quickly, in between movements. “You’re lucky you have your armor, because other- “

Hector nearly caught her side, but as expected, she dodged the blow gracefully, falling into a retaliatory attack on him with both hands gripped onto the Mani Katti’s handle. “Hmph, you’d have me skewered, wouldn’t you?”

“It’s fine. If you didn’t have it on, you’d be going easy on me. I want you at your full strength.”

Suddenly, he stopped, leaving Lyn to nearly lose her balance mid-strike. “No. Now that you mention it… I think we should go against each other evenly.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, her mouth agape as he pulled off his shoulder and chest pads to set them against a tree.

“If I’m learning technique from Lyn, I should start fighting a little more like her, shouldn’t I?” he replied. “But that doesn’t mean our match is finished.”

She smirked. “You’ve changed.”

“Maybe I have.” And without any extra flourish with his response, Hector picked their duel back up right where it left off, digging back into his mind for anything he knew about sword fighting: fleeting recollections of training with Oswin when he was younger, of the regular matches with Eliwood, and of Lyn. A lot of Lyn, actually – of all the times he caught glimpses of her practicing by herself or going up against opponents in battle or training with him, perhaps because she was before him at the moment, and perhaps because it was the only way he could even possibly keep up with her.

Hector found himself attempting to emulate her style of grace and dexterity – how she evaded all his attacks and swung back with her blade like a diving swallow, how she danced in combat to the steady heartbeat of the earth itself, how her cold jade eyes focused on all aspects of her situation at once with unflinching determination – but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t quite match her ability when they were on an even playing field. His movements were just a bit too slow, his swordplay just a bit too imprecise, and it was only a matter of time until he would blunder enough for Lyn to gain the upper hand and force him into surrendering. Yet at the same time he knew this to be inevitable, he also knew he wasn’t one to go down early or without a fight, even if as a part of learning something new – Lyn deserved better than a partner who gave up for the sake of getting on with the lesson, and ought to see his full strength, even without his weapon of choice.

The match continued on the banks of the stream, which flowed serenely compared to the vigor of the spar between the two lords. Hector managed to keep up, but only barely, and could tell Lyn too was aware of how he would falter at any moment, analyzing his movements with thin, suspicious eyes until she found her chance.

“You’re open,” she muttered quickly.

In less than a second, she acted on her observation, grabbing Hector’s arm and twisting it just enough to where he couldn’t retaliate, then bringing her blade up and dangerously close to his chest – if she wasn’t an ally, she’d have killed him already. She wouldn’t hesitate, either; in the heat of battle, she seldom granted mercy.

Hector looked down his nose at the sword pointed to his chest, then up at the woman wielding it. “Is this it? What an unglamorous way to die.”

“Hmph. Okay, Hector,” she said. “I’m not letting you go until you formally concede. Then we can start actually training.”

“Who said I surrendered?”

Suddenly, Hector dropped his weapon, which caught Lyn off guard. She opened her mouth to react, but lost her chance as he swung his foot around to trip her – an “illegal” move, but funny nonetheless and in good sport – causing her to lose her balance and fall. The unforeseen consequence of this, however, was that she subsequently fell into the stream beside them, but made the split-second decision to both drop her own weapon and maintain her grip on Hector’s arm, dragging him down with her until they both hit the river with a huge splash.

Hector squeezed his eyes shut as ice cold water rushed past his ears. After a moment, he managed to open them as he searched for the riverbed, but became distracted when he caught a glimpse of Lyn’s figure floating beside him: she was stunning even when submerged as the sunlight undulated with the water and sparkled off her warm, olive skin and smiling emerald eyes. Her braid and dress floated around her as she found her own footing before Hector did, planting her feet into the muddy floor and pushing her head up above the water.

Hector ungracefully scrambled to stand up in the water, finally lifting himself to where he faced Lyn. To his surprise, she was red-faced and laughing, hiding her unmistakable grin with a fist pressed to her mouth. “Hector, what in the world was that?! You still lost the match, you know…”

She kept laughing at their ridiculous situation: two grown warriors and nobles who’d gone out to train, but wound up taking a bath instead. And yet, as he saw her in that moment, her wet hair limp and sticking to her rosy cheeks as she teased him for his admittedly foolish stunt, he realized two things. The first, that Lyn was right: he had changed in the time since he first met her. Only now was he comfortable enough with her to be like this, to take off his armor and work with her as more than an ally, but as a friend.

The second, which was best taken as an explanation of the first, was that he had undoubtedly fallen in love with her as well.


	15. Chapter 15

It was the same dream he’d experienced nearly every night between Bern and the Western Isles – the same vague vision of grass, wind, and endless sky – except this time, it was different. It went further. Instead of wandering around searching for a force he couldn’t identify, he finally found it.

Lyn.

She was there in the long grass, her hair loose and stirring in the breeze, appearing so naturally it was as if she was an extension of the earth itself. She was the one he sought, the one whose presence – even when distant – drove him mad.

But when he reached for her, she disappeared, and he fell forward into an explosion of butterflies.

He awoke with a start, breathing heavily and staring up at the darkness with sweat sticking to the back of his neck – though he’d been pulled out of the dream, it still felt as though he was tumbling into the nothingness with no chance of salvation. Quickly, however, he remembered that he was not alone, as soft sounds of weeping came from before him.

Without pulling himself up, he looked ahead into the tent to see Eliwood from behind, sitting up and facing away from him in the blue shadows of night, the only light cast on him being that of the full moon filtering through the fabric.

_“I expected you’d be able to tell that he’d fallen in love”_

Only now did he feel that he truly understood.


	16. Chapter 16

Ninian’s death reminded him of how, after he started this expedition with Eliwood, Lyn, and Marc, he promised himself that if anything happened to his brother in Ostia, he would return. It prompted him to direct their trip there following the fateful events in the west, and so the weary company was taken into the fold of Castle Ostia after a month of non-stop travel.

But Uther wasn’t there, and Hector knew his brother better than to believe he’d visited Etruria on a whim.

He wasn’t _anywhere._

Oswin must have known something, and so Hector confronted him that evening in the stone-floored halls of the marquess’ wing – the part of the castle inhabited by only Hector at this time. “Say it! I command you! Tell me what has happened!” he growled, his fists clenched so tight that his fingernails dug into his palms. “…If you don’t answer right here, right now, I will cut you down, knave!”

“…Do as you must.”

And as his brown eyes bore straight into Hector’s with a certain heaviness upon them, he knew.

“…I see… My brother… He’s gone, isn’t he?”

“Lord Hector!”

“I was sure… He was recuperating… That he’d gone somewhere to recover his strength. I thought that was what you were hiding… But… you won’t confess even now. That means…”

It meant he had fooled himself. It meant he’d made the mistake of thinking the past wouldn’t repeat himself, that his brother wouldn’t fall victim to the same fate as their parents, that he would be able to keep on living his own life without having to take the title and all the political intricacies that came with it. But now… he didn’t want to think about it. It was awful enough, with so many of their comrades dead already and Uther’s passing – the head of the Lycian League himself – to top it off, with Nergal gaining power fast and threatening the world. The only choice he had was to push on. In Ostia, there was nothing he could do.

That was why Uther kept him uninformed, why he pushed him away from the turmoil brewing in their homeland. He wanted Hector to keep moving forward, to be the valiant hero he wanted to be – but at what cost?

_I’m sorry, brother._


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters this time ~ just to trying to make some connections with Hector's character growth (so yeah most of this is directly from the script... sigh)

The next morning, Oswin caught Hector outside his room before he had the chance to meet with anyone else. “Lord Hector… about last night…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hector replied quickly, still groggy from another night of poor sleep. “No matter the clamor I raise, my brother is dead. All I can do now is try not to distract Eliwood and the others. I must put on a strong face, must be strong for them.”

“…I see,” the knight said, his lips tight.

Before he could add any more, Hector crossed his arms and continued. “But, Oswin, I… will not forgive you. Not only you, but my brother, as well. Why… why did you hide this from me? Only me? Am I… so untrustworthy?”

“…Lord Hector, you may hate me and scorn me as you will, but… doubting Lord Uther’s intentions? You should not do that.” Oswin frowned. “I… The last message I received from Lord Uther ordered that, should he die, I must keep that news secret from you.”

“But why?”

“It is best you learn from him, rather than me… this is what was written in Lord Uther’s letter,” Oswin answered as he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a thin, folded sheet of parchment, opening it up and reading it aloud even though he held it to where Hector could see the tell-tale curves of his brother’s handwriting. “’He is true to his own feelings… If asked to choose between his brother and the world, he would not hesitate in rushing to my side. Though he often speaks in anger, we are brothers. We are all we have. I have never doubted his affection. Yet what if the choice were between brother and friend? To choose one would mean abandoning the other. He would come to despise himself, whatever his choice. I cannot force him to make such a decision.’”

Hector did not react, but took another glance at the yellowing paper in the knight’s worn hands, and turned to walk away.

“Lord Hector, please understand…”

“I have to go attend to something. Thank you, Sir Oswin.”

“Before you do… Farina is supposed to return with news from Fargus later this evening regarding passage to Valor. I just received word and came to tell you.”

Hector continued down the hall, acknowledging the message with the wave of his hand without turning to look back. “We depart for Badon tomorrow, then. I’ll relay that to the others.”

The only sound in the hall was that of Hector’s boots against the cold, hard floor as Oswin left him to walk towards the throne room. He knew the way by heart – so many times he had been stuck there for obligations to his father, then brother – but now, after all that happened, the conditions of his visit to the chamber were vastly different.

He reached the grand, deep brown doors and carefully pushed them open; despite Hector’s own strength, the thick wood was still heavy and took considerable momentum to move. Stepping into the room for the first time in nearly a year now, he finally realized how empty and large it was, now that only Hector survived as Ostia’s heir – the energy of his parents, and now Uther as well, were gone, and the space left behind… it felt lonely.

“…Even on the verge of death, you worried about me…” he mumbled, his eyes scanning over empty tables, and empty throne, a vacant chamber that once beheld ceremony and celebration before the icy hand of illness took its hold. “Blast… You were always like that, eh, Brother? I never asked it of you, but you watched over me nonetheless… Like a father, with that know-it-all look… I told you… ‘Don’t treat me like a kid…’”

Slowly, he walked through the room with his hands curled into fists, continuing his expression of discontent to Uther. “You never listened… but I’m coming back. I’ll take care of Nergal and end his threat to the world. I’ll be back… And I’ll take the throne. I may not be nearly as dependable as you, Brother, but… Even so, together we’ll make Ostia and all Lycia a place of peace. We’ll put an end to peerage and make Ostia a place where all are equal. …We’ll try our best…”

 _We._ He said it deliberately, rather than _I,_ because none of his intentions included him alone. Eliwood, he knew, sought peace above all else. And Lyn… he knew he wanted a future with her. When and if he returned to the throne, he wanted her by his side.

His voice rose to its normal volume, resounding with the force of a shout in the desolate hall.

“Watch and see. Brother!”


	18. Chapter 18

It was Marc’s idea, surprisingly enough, to have everyone go to the Night Festival in Ostia during their sojourn there. After all, he reasoned, having received word from Fargus that he would be able to take them to the Dread Isle on the Davros, their company still wouldn’t be able to leave until the next day, after the market reopened and the convoy restocked. They may as well enjoy the coincidence that the festival occurred at the same time they happened to reside in the castle.

Hector had seen more Night Festivals than he could count. Traditionally, it was a festival of light for the end of winter, though it was almost always chilly enough in Ostia in March to where the rainbow of lanterns strung through the city streets was viewed through cloudy puffs of breath and woolen scarves. Usually, he would hang out with Eliwood during the festivities, but on this occasion, his friend had retired early – Hector didn’t blame him, because the next day would be an early one for them. However, for the sake of tradition, Hector still found himself in the city square that evening, standing to the side beneath the warm lantern light while others danced to the melodies of the band in the center, the notes floating above them like twinkling stars.

“Why does Ostia host this festival, anyway?” he heard a familiar voice inquire, and turned to see Lyn join him in his spot beside the festivities. His heart leaped at the sight of her, her hair a deeper viridian tone in the night than in the day, but the warm tones of her skin glowing in the light – and swallowed to conceal it. He’d done well to keep his feelings to himself thus far, because as much as he didn’t care to put on airs and scoot around one’s true feelings, he knew it simply wasn’t the right time to express such sentiments, not with everything else threatening to fall apart around them.

Still, it was difficult, when every time he caught a glimpse of her it felt as though his heart would explode.

“It’s for the end of winter,” he explained. “Though… over time it’s become more of a lovers’ festival, because it’s still cold.” Not that he had ever come with a partner in arm before – he’d never particularly cared about it before, and he’d never been the charming brother, either – that was Uther, who had a partner on his arm at nearly every Night Festival Hector saw him at.

“Oh,” she replied as her bright eyes watched their friends dance in the square. She folded her arms beneath her chest. “I’m glad, then, that Marc suggested this. After everything that happened, and everything we have yet to face… we could use dancing, and music, and laughter.”

Hector turned to her and smiled. “I – “

“Ah, I’m sorry, that was a little weird to say, wasn’t it?” she interrupted with a forced laugh, rosy embarrassment written on her cheeks.

“Oh no, um, it’s okay. To be sentimental, that is, after everything… it’s been a long journey.” _Together,_ he wanted to add – for so long they had traveled together and grown closer, so the sentiment felt appropriate in that way.

“Why don’t you go dance?” Lyn asked. “It is an Ostian festival, after all.”

“Ha – “ Hector attempted, but was cut off by a mischievous pair of hands that pushed him from behind, towards Lyn.

“She is right, you know. Loosen up and dance!” he heard Matthew chirp as he skipped away with Serra on his arm, evidently the culprits in causing Hector to lose his balance and nearly topple over. While he didn’t completely fall over, he still stumbled towards Lyn, who reflexively held up her hands against his chest to stop him just inches away from her. Hector’s immediate reaction, however, was to wrap his arms around her and hold her against him, so she wouldn’t stumble backward when he hit her.

The peculiar thing was that he didn’t let go.

As far as she knew, he didn’t have any reason to hold her especially close. They were just friends, after all. But suddenly, due to Matthew’s “playful” meddling, they’d fallen into another awkward situation, like when he accidentally held her too close in the water temple… no, he realized, it couldn’t have been a genuine accident. He had been in love with her for some time now, but wouldn't let himself admit it, wouldn't let it manifest fully – so when he nearly lost her, he was scared, scared to lose that one person who was important to him in a way different from anyone else in the world.

Lyn.

She looked up at him through dark eyelashes at first, then tilted her head up to face him better, clearly frustrated and flustered at Matthew’s jape. “You…” Her eyes darted away. “Do you want to dance…?”

“I never paid attention in lessons…” Hector conceded, his voice low and beneath the music around them.

“N-neither did I…”

They remained there, neither one able to verbalize the thought that was certainly shared – _this is awkward._

“I… um, I need to go,” Lyn stuttered, grasping at any excuse to get away. “It’s late…” And with that she pulled away from Hector and began walking through the city streets to the castle, her pace increasing as she got further from sight and eventually disappeared, leaving Hector alone in the festival.


	19. Chapter 19

Her heart still hammered against her chest as she shut the door behind her.

_Why?_

It wasn’t the only time Hector had acted oddly lately, so if anything, she should have been getting used to it. This time, after all, it wasn’t anything but Matthew playing a prank and teasing them, but for some reason, they couldn’t laugh it off as they normally would.

In the moments that Lyn wound up close to Hector, she realized, she didn’t want to let go.

She slowly walked to the bed she’d been lent for the time they would be spending in Ostia and laid down, allowing her legs to hang off the end as her hands folded across her stomach and her eyes stared up at the ceiling. There was no reason to feel like this; she was overreacting. After all, it was just another awkward moment with her friend… that happened to everyone, didn’t it? So tomorrow, then, she would try and clear the air between them – _tomorrow_ , she told herself as she fell asleep without even changing into a nightdress, _tomorrow_.  


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ~ it's been a few weeks since I last updated but with the semester over, hopefully, I can get back to (about) a chapter a week ^^ It feels like the story is almost over, but there's still a lot I want to write... please stay with me!
> 
> This chapter is the last gaiden of the game (the battle preparations one) with the special conversation between Lyn and Hector. I guess that's kind of like their S-support? aha

Thanks to the hospitality of Castle Ostia, breakfast was served the next morning, but Hector assured that if they wanted to serve themselves, it would be fine. (“I don’t care much for formalities. You know that,” he’d told them when they reached the city. “Uther is apparently abroad, anyway.”) With that, Lyn made it a point to rise early to eat and get out to help with preparations for the voyage across the sea, but when she reached the kitchen, only Eliwood sat at the table with a bowl of porridge before him.

Lyn looked around the room. “Good morning, Eliwood,” she greeted. “I take it Hector is still asleep?”

“The opposite,” he replied. “He’s already gone out.”

With a shake of her head, Lyn sighed. “It figures. I wanted to talk to him this morning, before we departed.”

“…If I may ask, why?”

“Well… I mean, surely, you’ve noticed too, Eliwood? How for the past…” How long had it been? Last night, the water temple, the incident with Rath… it had been months, hadn’t it? Why hadn’t she thought to act on it earlier? “…for a while now, he’s been acting oddly with me?”

“I can’t say I’ve noticed anything especially odd.” Eliwood gave a light chuckle. “Hector is Hector. What makes you think he’s been acting weird?”

“It…” Inadvertently, her cheeks flushed red, and she turned her head so Eliwood might not see. “He’s just been treating me a little different than how we usually are. He seems… ah, I just feel like I need to clear the air between us, somehow, and make us go back to how we used to be.”

“That’s funny.”

“What?”

Eliwood smiled. “At first, I didn’t think you could stand him at all. But now, the two of you are quite close – I never thought you’d get to the point of being nearly inseparable, and yet here you are.”

She looked down at her arms crossed under her chest. “You’re right,” Lyn admitted.

“…Lyndis, how _do_ you feel about him?”

“He acts like a brute,” she answered immediately, but after fighting alongside each other for so long, she knew there was more to it. He could be brusque, but he cared deeply for his friends and allies. He was more empathetic than he appeared. He valued justice, and fought relentlessly for what was important to him… “but he takes his duties seriously,” she added.

“Hector has always been a man of firm character. I’ve always envied him for that – his ability to conceal any doubts he feels about himself or his actions.”

Lyn crossed the kitchen to where a loaf of bread sat on the counter. “That’s it…” she mused as she sliced herself a couple of pieces. “His character… he isn’t showing how he really feels. So to get that out of him… hmph, he’s always been more of a man of action, hasn’t he?”

“Are you planning something…?”

Having finished eating one slice of bread, Lyn took the other with her as she exited the kitchen. “You make it sound like I’m scheming. I’m not that kind of person, Eliwood – have a little faith! I just… I think I might be able to get through to him, maybe, and figure out… where our relationship stands. He’s already out to market, isn’t he?”

“Yes… good luck?”

With a shrewd smile to Eliwood from the doorway, Lyn left. “Thank you!”

She found her way through the halls of the castle, out into the streets, and to Ostia’s commercial district without much trouble – it was essentially in the same location as the festival the night before, the remnants of which could be seen hanging unlit around the square. In the daylight, she could see the shops surrounding the plaza – the grocery, the armory, the tailor, all standing proud and open to customers, in particular those who would be departing from Badon within the week.

So it wasn’t a surprise to see, standing by himself and looking in at the weaponry on display, a tall, indigo-haired man in the morning light.

Hector made a motion to walk off somewhere else, but Lyn jogged to catch up with him. “Hector!” she greeted, which got him to stop. “Wait up a minute!”

“Hm? What is it?”

She pulled herself in front of him to speak, then paused to breathe before saying, “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“…When we first met, I criticized your fighting style, remember? So… I wanted to apologize.”

Hector’s expression relaxed from furrowed brows and a confused frown into a light chuckle. “Oh, that? Don’t worry about it… but why bring this up now?”

“I used to think you were selfish, oblivious to others’ needs. Even after all this time, I only saw you as crude and insensitive,” she confessed.

“Hey, now…” Hector sighed as he crossed his arms, stopping Lyn in her explanation. “Do I really need to hear this? I mean, what’s your point?”

She shook her head. “…I used to be like that, too,” Lyn continued, dragging a hand down the braid that fell over her shoulder. “I relied too much on my own strength and stuck to myself… All I did was cause problems to the people around me… I think you’re like that, too. So, sometimes, I feel I’m looking at the old me. Sometimes… I treat you horribly.”

“Hmph, yeah, that’s true. Sometimes, you really lay into me.”

“…But aboard the pirate ship… and after everything… what you said made me realize I was wrong. So…”  It was a long time coming, but hopefully, after explaining herself to Hector, they could make some sense out of their friendship. “I’m sorry.”

“You apologized once before. I admitted that I’ve got a bad attitude… It’s fine, right? Just let it go.”

“’Let it go?’ I can’t just ‘let it go!’ That doesn’t satisfy me,” Lyn huffed. And then, recalling what Eliwood had reflected about Hector’s personality, she asked of him the most peculiar request she would ever propose. “…Hit me! It’ll make me feel better!”

“What?”

She nudged him on the shoulder with her palm, a grin stretched across her face. “C’mon! I won’t move! Wind up and let it fly!”

“You… Hah…” Hector breathed. He made no motion to accept Lyn’s challenge, instead reaching to where her hand was planted against him and covering it with his.

“Hm? …Hector? What is it? Are you afraid?”

He looked into her eyes with an unnaturally serious gaze, with paling cheeks and the same midnight blue eyes that taunted her too many times since the time they first met. Hector shook his head. “Give me a break. Do you think I could hit a woman?”

“It’s OK. Just don’t think of me as a woman.”

“I…” he began, breaking out of his solemnity enough to give Lyn a smile. “I can’t smack a woman I’ve lost my heart to.”

“C’mon, hurr- what?”

He began to turn away. “Look, enough of this foolishness, let's-“

“No!” Lyn complained, and grabbed ahold of Hector’s arm to prevent his escape. “What did you just say? What do you mean?”

With a frustrated sigh, he turned to face her again, trapped by her death grip around his bicep. “Lyn, now isn’t the time. There’s other things going on – you and I both know that.”

“This isn’t like you! Hector, you’re usually so straightforward about everything, but everything you’ve done lately has me so confused! We were friends, but like last night… it’s so awkward between us. Stop teasing and… oh, I don’t know. Just act like Hector again!”

Hector’s expression softened, and Lyn wasn’t sure what to expect before he suddenly closed the space between them.

He kissed her.

_He’s always been more of a man of action, hasn’t he?_

Lyn froze in her place, suddenly too aware of everything – the touch of Hector’s calloused hand against her own, the eyes of the few people in the market laying on them, the scent of rain and endless sky that she only caught when he was inches away. The kiss itself wasn’t more than a peck – just a brush of warm lips against her – but it was enough to tell Lyn the exact same words Hector would mutter as he pulled away from her.

“I’m in love with you.”

Her heart beat against her chest and her cheeks flushed red to match Hector’s. It made sense now: the jealousy, the cut-off conversations, the awkward moments whenever they got too close. She was the one who pushed for his answer, and she got the unapologetic truth. She ought to feel relieved, because now, with some sort of understanding between them, they could move on.

But still.

“You… you’re right, Hector…” Lyn managed as she loosened her grip on him. “There’s a lot to deal with right now… I’m going to go help Marc with battle preparations.”

Without saying goodbye, she hurried away, almost regretting pushing Hector to answer her. If she hadn’t – if she’d left their peculiar yet functional relationship alone – they might still be on normal terms. But now she knew, and with that knowledge, she wasn’t sure how to react, or how she felt at all.


	21. Chapter 21

Cold wind whipped around Lyn and stung at her eyes as she held onto Florina atop her pegasus. She’d spent the majority of the journey to the Dragon’s Gate with her friend in the skies, save for the times when Marc called meetings, during all of which she kept her presence impassive and brief before excusing herself. Overall, she avoided being on the ground, and all because she was avoiding one person.

She had not spoken to Hector since his confession in Ostia. Nor had she eaten with him, or trained with him, or smiled at him; any accidental eye contact between the two of them was met with an awkward dart of her eyes and near scurry away. Perhaps it didn’t suit her – she prided herself in being strong and confrontational – but there was no way she knew how to react to it. Hector didn’t ask for an answer, but she felt that he deserved one.

Unfortunately, Lyn didn’t have an answer for Hector, and much less herself.

In one part, she was frustrated. She should have known that putting herself in such a situation wouldn’t make her any less confused than she already was – instead, she ended up even more lost with her relationship with Hector. Before, she thought that maybe he would come out and say he was messing with her, that he didn't think about her that way, but instead he said the near opposite. There was no going back from it - the kiss was irreversible.

The kiss!

He'd actually done that, without any regard for the fact that they were in public or that everyone in Ostia knew who he was. As always, he made himself quite clear, so it wasn’t Hector that perplexed her. The issue of their relationship, rather, was a matter of her feelings for him.

Lyn rested her chin on Florina’s shoulder from behind. “Florina…” she said. “What do you think of Hector?”

“Lord Hector? He scared me at first… but I think he’s nicer than he seems.”

“Fair enough.”

The pegasus knight kept her eyes on the sky before them as she guided Huey to a lower altitude. “Um… aren’t the two of you… you know…”

“What?”

“Serra told me you were ‘seeing’ each other…”

“We aren’t,” Lyn replied too quickly. “I mean, we… it’s hard to explain.”

“You aren’t on bad terms, are you?”

“No!” Again, Lyn’s response was too fast. “I mean, I haven’t been around him for a while, but… it’s not because I don’t like him. I just… I’m not sure how to face him.”

“Did something happen?”

Lyn sighed. “We… he… he kissed me,” she replied, hiding her face on Florina’s back.

“He _kissed_ you?!” she exclaimed at an octave higher than her friend’s confession.

For the first time in weeks, Lyn found herself chuckling. She was nineteen; kissing people shouldn’t be such a big deal to her, and it wasn’t – except this was Hector. “Can you believe it? He told me he was in love with me…”

“I believe it,” Florina replied shyly, and Lyn snapped her head up to face her as best she could. “I saw… how he looks at you. Serra said she’s noticed it too, how he really admires you.”

“I didn’t think he gave away his heart that easily…” But what was it he said before he kissed her? The woman he lost his heart to… Lyn had immediately acted as though it didn’t make sense. Why her? It wasn’t that she was inadequate, but that she hadn’t considered herself in such a situation for so long. The last time she thought about falling in love was when her mother was still alive, when she got asked every morning over breakfast what she thought of the others her age in the tribe. Back then, falling in love meant something different to her.

So what did it mean now?

She closed her eyes and buried her face in Florina’s feathery lavender hair, and only one person came to mind.


	22. Chapter 22

_“Do you understand? I have power. The power to perform miracles. Oh, yes… Hector. Your brother, Uther, the marquess of Ostia? He’s dead, is he not?”_

When she heard it, Lyn’s heart sank. She hadn’t heard anything about Uther’s passing; but then again, she was the one avoiding Hector. He couldn’t have told her about it even if he wanted to.

After declaring battle with Nergal, the troops fell back to prepare themselves, and Lyn used it as an opportunity to seize Eliwood, the only person besides Hector who might have insight on the Marquess’ death.

“…Hector has been acting a little strange…” he explained, his expression darkening. “So I forced Oswin to tell me. It was the same illness that took his father. The sickness came on suddenly – it took less than a year for the disease to spread.”

With the bad news confirmed, Lyn took a heavy breath and pressed her hand against her lips. “So when we met him in Castle Ostia, he was…”

“He was dying…Yet he… He didn’t want Hector or us to know… He pushed himself too far. I’m sure he was told he shouldn’t be moving about…”

“Hector… when did he…”

“Only recently. He figured it out when he saw Lord Uther wasn’t at the castle. He pressed Oswin to tell him… After that, so as not to distract us, Hector pretended that nothing was amiss…”

“…That’s… no…” Uther’s death meant so much more than what it was. For one, it meant that Hector was holding back. Lyn should have come to expect that, recalling how he explained how he never cried over his parents’ deaths, but was bothered nonetheless that he never said anything about it. While he was open about his feelings, he was at the same time self-sacrificing… he only kept his knowledge from his closest friends and pushed forward because, like his brother, he would rather let his sadness fester inside him rather than distract from their greater goal.

But if he found out about Uther when he saw he wasn’t in the castle… Lord Uther was never abroad, then. Hector realized he had died when they reached Ostia, so when Lyn confronted him in the market… that was what he meant. He mentioned how there was much more happening around them – it wasn’t just Nergal. It was the loss of his brother. It was the pressure of returning to Ostia to inherit the throne.

And, as they were constantly reminded on the Dread Isle, there was no promise of their safe return.

When Hector had fallen ill, back when they were still on the mainland, he complained about how anti-climactic it was to die of sickness and how he didn’t want to go like that. It wasn’t that he romanticized a valiant fall, but that he’d already watched his family struggle with illness. He lost them. So when he asked her what his death would mean… at the time, the statement struck her as the odd musings of a sick man, but now she understood.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowowow double update! :o (they're both short lol)
> 
> it's finally *that part*... I actually wrote a lynhec fic earlier this year, but when I found this scene, started reworking it as this fic... this conversation hit me hard//// It's so significant to their relationship, I tried my best... I feel like I could have just copy/pasted the dialogue as-is. It speaks volumes on its own.

Lyn found Hector by himself and grabbed his sleeve, tugging at it just enough to get his attention. Despite how few words she had spared him recently, he didn’t treat her any differently.

“…What is it?” he asked, his tone more subdued than his normal battle vigor. Now that she was finally this close to him again, the signs were obvious – it was no wonder Eliwood thought to press Oswin for answers. The dark under-eyes, the tight lips… the only other time she had seen him like this was following their first trip to the Dread Isle.

“Hector…” she said, but began sniffling immediately. As he kept himself composed for some time now, she attempted to do the same, but it was impossible.

She felt too much for him.

“I’m certain…that… you did not cry, not when… So, I will… This…this is your share of tears…”

They burned at her eyes – tears of stress and sorrow and heartache – as he pulled her close and held her head against his shoulder, allowing her to collapse into him. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist; this time, the closeness was deliberate. But as always, Lyn didn’t want it to ever end, and finally knew why.

“Don’t say anything…” she murmured into his neck as tears fell down her cheeks and onto Hector’s coat. “Just, for a little while, let me lean on you. For a little while…”

He listened, and it was more than enough. All she needed was to know he was there. The reassurance of his hand on her back, the sound of his breath, the warmth of his touch… she nearly lost herself in him, her only constant when the world around them was on the brink of collapse.

Lyn shifted her head to rub at her puffy eyes. “…D-don’t,” she whispered.

“Hm?”

“Don’t die… you…” Hector, of everyone in the army, would be the first to put victory above his own life. He wouldn’t mind dying if it was for something worthwhile.

But Lyn wouldn’t be able to live with that.

“…I know,” he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEN THEY SAY THE TITLE IN THE STORY :O


	24. Chapter 24

It took a while for them to realize that it was actually _over,_ that Eliwood dealt the final blow to the dragon and it would not rise again.

Nergal was gone.

The rogue dragons were gone.

In a way, it didn’t feel real. There had to be _something –_ there was always one more challenge after the first to keep them on their adventure. Yet all that remained of the battle was a dragon’s corpse, a weary army, and the lingering singe of magic in the air.

Lyn caught Hector’s eyes on her and looked over to him with a wide grin, which he matched in return – the kind of shining, relieved smile that only appeared after the darkest of terrors. As always, they fought side by side. They saw the fight to its end together. Yet, with wide eyes, Hector still asked, “It’s done… isn’t it?”

Under her breath, Lyn laughed as she stepped closer. “We made it through,” she said, which may have been the understatement of the century. Though Marc’s guidance avoided them any casualties, everyone around them was battle-worn, and even Hector held his axe loosely at his side now that the worst was over. As she approached him, she remembered that they were both in want of a bath, but they’d fought hard. The sweat and grime of battle couldn’t take from the satisfaction of triumph.

There was a moment in which no one said anything, in which Hector’s indigo eyes wandered over Lyn as if he wasn’t sure what to say. He had fulfilled his promise. But other than that, Lyn hadn’t asked anything else of him, nor had she promised anything in return – though considering all that had happened, there was something she had to do.

In one movement she reached up, hooked her arms around his shoulders, and pulled him into a kiss.

It was like nothing she had felt before. It certainly wasn’t like the first time he kissed her; for one, she had to adjust her arms around his armor this time, and briefly contemplated taking it off herself. Nonetheless, he didn’t hesitate in kissing back. He wrapped his arms around her back to bring her closer, and she felt as though she would melt into him. Warmth flooded her with every touch as she slid her hands up his neck and through his hair – Hector desperately needed a haircut, but it didn’t matter to her now, just as so many little things didn’t matter to her in that moment. Her lips moved against his more deliberately and fiercely than the fleeting kiss he’d given her in Ostia, and Lyn would have given anything to keep them like that forever.

She pulled away from him, remaining inches from his face with a warm smile still upon her lips. “I love you,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Yeah, I think I know that now.” With a single kiss, he’d gone from a pale, exhausted warrior to a rosy-cheeked, grinning fool. He hadn’t expected her to do it, but after she wept on him before the battle, after their love hung unsaid in the air, the kiss only felt natural.

Lyn laughed. “I know. I think… we’ve both been avoiding it for some time now, haven’t we?” She wasn’t sure what to do when he confessed the first time, but now she saw that she’d been in love with him, one way or another, since before that. Behind her kiss was more than her love alone – it was their journey. She kissed him not because she was merely infatuated with him, but because she’d fallen deeply in love with his self-sacrificing and determined and lively spirit, because he gave her a sense of home she thought she’d lost, because she was stronger with him than without. Despite every reservation she once had, their bond had passed the boundaries of trust and friendship, growing into something indescribable and unbreakable and beautiful.

_I am so, so glad you’re here with me._

The journey was over. But with that, a new journey – their journey _together_ – began.

Lyn couldn’t contain her silly grin as she pressed her lips to Hector’s one more time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D Finally! That's pretty much the main story; after this, I'm going to work some epilogue chapters. (there will be some more fluff, I promise! I really want to write Lilina... she's the number one reason this fic isn't over yet l o l)
> 
> I say this a lot but THANK YOU FOR READING I didn't think this fic would get any support at first TuT but here we are!


	25. Chapter 25

After everything was said and done, after camp was set up and all their injured were tended to, Hector and Lyn slept like the dead. She wound up in his tent the first evening after the battle to check up on him – Hector sprained his ankle in the fight and didn’t notice until Lucius pointed out his limp afterwards – but after sitting down and talking for a few minutes, they both fell asleep, and barely woke at all for the next two days.

By the third day, they both managed a somewhat normal sleep schedule, but spent the time in between rest in each other’s company while Eliwood busied himself with visiting the other convalescing members of the army. He didn’t seem to mind at all that Lyn had moved into their tent. After all, she was his friend, too, and he probably understood that Hector wanted to be with her, even if most of what they did together was sleep – both were a long time coming.

On the fourth day following the events at the Dragon’s Gate, Hector awoke to pale sunlight filtering through the fabric above him, but neither Eliwood nor Lyn by his side.

Groggily, he looked around and pensively ran a hand through his hair. Being alone felt peculiar. He attempted to do what he thought was logical – to get up and go see where everyone had gone – but forgot about the ankle he’d successfully disabled and fell back to his bedroll when he put weight on it.

His strategy, however, worked in reverse, and Lyn came rushing into the tent in the next moment. “Hector!” she shouted, her eyes wide and panicked at the sight of him grumbling a stream of curses on the floor. “Oh, Father Sky… did you try to walk on that? You know Lucius said that you’d have to be off it at least a week because of how badly you injured it!”

“Ha… I was wondering where you and Eliwood went.”

Lyn sighed through her nose. “I went to go see how everyone else is doing after the fight, but I heard something fall in here as I was coming back,” she said as she walked over to Hector and sat down with him. Unlike him, the only physical memento of the battles at the Dragon’s Gate Lyn had was a burn on her arm, which was currently protected with a wrap of white bandages – she'd gotten off easy and was free to move about. “Eliwood is with Ninian. She just woke up today, and it looks like she’s doing a lot better… it goes without saying, but she was exhausted after all that stress.”

“I can imagine.” Hector chuckled. “It isn’t every day a girl rises from the dead and takes out a couple of dragons.”

With a gentle expression in her eyes, Lyn smiled. “I’m really happy for her and Eliwood. He’s giving her a home in Pherae… she deserves a peaceful life, after all that happened.”

Lyn’s words reminded Hector of a conversation he hadn’t had with her – a conversation he knew he needed to start, but wasn’t sure how to do so. He wasn’t sure how she’d react if he just _said_ it, but then again, since when was he one for being subtle?

“Lyn, when we get to the mainland, you’ll be returning to Caelin, won’t you?” he asked.

She took his hand in hers as a response, understanding what he was implying. “Yes. Before we left Badon, I received word from one of Grandfather’s messengers that he’d taken ill again, so I’m going to see about his recovery.”

“Lyn.”

Silently, she matched his gaze, a question written in the deep viridian of her eyes.

“I’m going to Caelin with you.”

“What? I assumed you would be returning to Ostia,” she said. “I know Oswin must want you to go back to handle the affairs there.”

“Hmph. Oswin can hold down the fort for a while – Uther knew what was coming and made arrangements ahead of time for the aftermath.” Arrangements Hector didn’t know about until his knight told him after the fact, a will written and executed while he was adventuring around the continent. It was just another one of the things Hector had no control over, but had gotten angry with himself for being incapable of acting on. Eliwood was right. He always became frustrated when he was powerless.

So if there was anything he did have power in, he refused to delay action on it. There were political implications, of course, but they didn’t matter to him now – with Lyn, he refused to fall into the same trap.

“I’m going to go to Caelin to ask Lord Hausen for his blessing. To marry you.”

Lyn opened her mouth in a gasp, which then settled into a smile. “That’s… that’s some kind of a proposal!” she exclaimed, hiding the redness of her face with her free hand. “I didn’t expect…”

“What, did you really think I was the type of man to steal a bride? I’m not some kind of bandit or anything…” But he took no offense, and leaned in to press a kiss to her lips.

“You could at least propose _properly._ ”

Hector opened his mouth to retort, but could tell by the unmistakable grin on Lyn’s face that she was teasing. “Lyn, will you marry me?” he asked.

She responded by closing the space between them with another kiss, this one long and sweet and unbroken until she managed to whisper one word: “Yes.”

So he kissed her still, running a hand up her back and into her hair to free it from the ponytail she’d put it in, allowing the long green strands to fall freely down her back. He held her close as she let her better arm explore his chest, and it took a great deal of resistance to not explore hermore, because the way she felt against him and the way she smelled like clean air and fresh grass was enough to drive him mad.

Lyn found a comfortable place for her hand in between Hector’s neck and shoulder, and he gave into the temptation to move from her lips and began trailing kisses down her chin and neck. When he got to the collar of her dress, he attempted to unbutton it himself but fumbled too much with the overly intricate clasps, so Lyn undid them herself, letting him explore her chest with lips and tongue. His hands slid down from her hair to her waist, with one settling on her thigh – which Lyn wound up holding in her own again as an unspoken _later._

She pulled her knees up and curled against him as he nipped at her collarbone. “Hector…” she mumbled. “You’re a really messy kisser, you know that…”

Against her skin, he smiled. “I’ll work on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	26. Chapter 26

They _had_ a plan as everyone parted ways at Badon. First, they would go to Caelin, then to Ostia where Hector would formally take on his title, and then across the country to Pherae where Eliwood would do the same. Sometime after all that, they would get married, but hadn’t agreed on a time yet, seeing as half of their friends were engaged now, too.

It changed when they reached the gates of Castle Caelin with their party, and Hausen’s captain of the guard came running to the frantically with the grim news on his lips.

Lord Hausen, the reigning Marquess of Caelin and grandfather of Lady Lyndis, was dead.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry to be all sad TuT i said i was going to do epilogue stuff, so...

As they found out as Lyn was whisked into an impromptu council meeting, her grandfather passed away only two days prior to her return to Caelin. There was no time to get word to her before she arrived.

The meeting room in Caelin was even smaller and stuffier than the one in Ostia, intensified by the overwhelming presence of greedy noblemen in every seat. As it appeared, most had come to the castle upon learning of the marquess’ death and hadn’t ventured very far away, remaining close to the seat of power in hopes of claiming it when its heir failed to return from battle. It made it easier to call a meeting, at least. They circled Lyn like sharks, but she was strong. She wouldn’t let the blood of her wounds hit the water.

She opted to stand at the front of the room rather than take a seat, and Hector stood behind her with her knights Kent, Sain, Florina, and Wil. He didn’t particularly like the idea of using political power, but he was the Head of the Lycian League now, so anyone who opposed Lyn’s decisions would have to go through him. No matter what Lyn said, Hector would defend her.

“I accept my inheritance of the state of Caelin, as the late Lord Hausen’s granddaughter,” she announced. “However, let it be known that I will not take on the position of marquess.”

Hector could see the fire in the eyes of the noblemen, their urge to attack and devour Caelin’s heir, but Lyn wasn’t finished speaking.

“I intend to abdicate rule to my fiancée, Lord Hector of Ostia.”

The entire room went into an uproar, and Hector almost grinned triumphantly. After all, who would have thought that the Noblewoman of Sacae and the General of Ostia would announce their marriage? But that wasn’t the main concern of the nobility, as the majority of objections thrown at Lyn were in regards to the autonomy of the state and the rights they would lose in annexation to Ostia. They were greedy and vicious and everything Hector hated about the court, everything he wanted to put himself above when he took his brother’s title.

“I refuse to watch Caelin lose herself as a consequence of a girl’s sudden decision to marry,” one of the councilmen complained – a man Hector recognized as being a supporter of the coup lead by Lundgren in the year before.

Life was but a memory in her cold, jade eyes and pallid cheeks as she stared down the demagogues. “Lord Hausen would want a secure future for his homeland, and that is what Lord Hector and I will provide. My marriage is no more sudden than my finding out about my grandfather’s passing this morning,” Lyn said, and the solidarity of her voice was enough to turn the room as silent as the dead. 


	28. Chapter 28

Lord Hausen had yet to be buried, as it was customary to allow for a viewing period for the days following the passing. After the announcement to the council and orders to Caelin’s envoys to spread word to the other Lycian states, Lyn asked to visit his body alone. Surprisingly, but not surprisingly, she couldn’t actually bring herself to go by herself and pulled Hector aside privately and asked him to go with her, her gaze dark and avoidant.

So he followed her to the great hall of Castle Caelin, where the casket holding the late leader laid open and surrounded by a plethora of flowers. Lyn walked to it silently, running her fingers against the soft tips of daisies and roses and along the smooth oak of the casket until she got to where his head laid, pale and lifeless, and the impact of the I love yous and goodbyes that were never given crushed her façade with invisible thunder.

As she wilted into a mess of tears, Hector didn’t say anything and held her.

The first time she cried in front of him, he misjudged her and turned away.

He would never turn from her again.

The most recent time she cried in front of him, it was Lyn who misjudged Hector, afraid he would let himself die before her. In a way, she’d been right. He didn’t mind dying if it was in battle, if he knew his death was worth something. But he still hadn’t told her that that wasn’t the case in the Dragon’s Gate, because he didn’t _intend_ to die. Even when she stopped talking to him, he still hoped to win her over and return home by her side.

It shouldn’t have been like this, but for life to work out so smoothly was a fleeting fantasy. They were stuck in their place, trapped between wars and politics, prophecies and dreams.

Lyn choked loud sobs into Hector’s chest and gripped the fabric of the shirt on his back tightly, as if that would keep her tethered to life. “I should be used to it by now,” she mumbled as she managed to steady her weeping.

Hector pressed his head against the top of hers, soft green hair brushing against his lips. “No… it’s not…” he said quietly, but stopped. Not what? Not fair? But fate was hardly fair, and they knew that better than anyone in the entire damned continent.

He picked her chin up and looked at her. She was tired and red and puffy and tear-stained and everything she shouldn’t be because Hector promised to love her. He promised to make her happy, and it frustrated him that he couldn't. She was so _strong,_ stronger than him or anyone he’d ever met, and she didn’t deserve what she’d been handed – she was an orphan in a foreign land with her grandfather’s will above her and the needs of her people below and hardly enough room to be _her._

So he brushed his lips against hers, tasting the salt of tears upon trembling lips, as if his action would take it all away.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY (late) CHRISTMAS !!! I hope everyone had a good holiday ~
> 
> About this fic  
> aha  
> um I bumped the rating to MA *just in case* because the next two chapters are very very indulgent (for me as a writer anyways) lol you can skip 29 and 30 and be fine... haha... yeah////

It started on her first night there. With it being just the two of them on the trip from Caelin to Ostia, she’d grown accustomed to being with him most all the time, and sleeping alone felt unnatural. So at the end of that first day in Castle Ostia (and every day after that), Lyn found herself in Hector’s quarters, where they had their own ways of coping with matters.

“Matters” being politics, which strained both of them to exhaustion most every night. Hector was especially bad at hiding it, even though he did well to put on a composed face for public affairs.

In some ways, it was scarier being home than at war. Lyn didn’t think she’d have to declare such a decision so soon, but she did, making up her mind about how she’d announce her engagement and what she would do with the political power she had in the time it took to get from the castle gate to its interior. Their stay in Caelin was consequentially prolonged due to the nature of funerals and inheritances and negotiations. When Hector and Lyn finally departed for Ostia, it was with the understanding that negotiations of Caelin’s annexation would be continued there, alongside preparations for the coronation of Marquess Ostia.

What Lyn hadn’t anticipated was the whispers among the court of a “marriage of convenience” – no one expected the maverick Lord Hector to settle down and marry so early. It must have been a plot of that foreign noblewoman to gain power, or Hector had other women and was using Lady Lyndis as a front, or something, anything that wasn’t love.

Let them talk.

In retaliation, Hector made it a point to dispel a number of the rumors surrounding his fiancée through a strategy of public displays of affection – though he was promptly scolded by Oswin when he snuck a peck on Lyn’s cheek during a council meeting. They laughed about it for what seemed like forever that evening, a rare occasion in which sleep hadn’t taken over either one of them yet.

“Poor Oswin! Sometimes I’m surprised he doesn’t have a full head of grey hair because of his concern over us,” Lyn said, laying back in the bed with her legs hanging off, habitually toying with the gold band on her finger.

Hector chuckled. “He’s played mother to me for some time now – I think he’s used to it.” He walked over to her and pulled off the button-up shirt was wearing and to toss it indiscriminately to a chair – in summer especially, he absolutely refused to sleep with a shirt on. “But you don’t mind, do you?”

“What? Hector, no.” She sat up when he sat on the edge of the bed. “I mean, it’s embarrassing, but I don’t mind.”

“Good,” he said, suddenly serious, and took her hand in his. Like everyone she knew, Hector’s hands were rough and calloused (despite the leather gloves he used in battle), but they felt familiar and loving as he ran his thumb over her ring in tight circles. “Because… I want all of them to know that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours? That’s very greedy of you.”

“What? I love you, that’s all.”

“I know,” she said, because he was right. They had each other, and that was all that mattered. “You… you can be greedy like that. I like it.”

Midnight-blue eyes made brief, cataclysmic contact with hers before Hector leaned in and kissed her.

Lyn fell back on the bed, letting him catch her in easy, unhurried kisses while his arm moved to prop himself over her. Her fingers, now free, spread on his chest and brushed over old and familiar scars – a burn from a fire spell on his left side, the thin signature of a myrmidon’s blade below his chest, and some other fading marks she was certain were vestiges of her own lips. She knew her own body was marked in a similar fashion: by war and by love, the latter of which she’d come to prefer as of late.

Hector grabbed her thigh as he deepened the kiss, slipping his fingers under the fabric of her dress and stroking her skin in a way that made her moan into his lips. It was like a haven in his room, a place where there was no job to be done, no throne and no title and no diplomacy. In moments like these, he was everything.

She hooked her arms behind his head to pull him closer, closer, closer so she could touch all of him at once, because touching him made her feel like she was touching the sky.

Or something like that, if her dress wasn’t in the way. She managed to mumble something about it, and though Hector tried to do it on his own, Lyn had to undo the buttons and pull it off herself. With that sorted out, he scooped her into his arms long enough to put her in a better position, with her with her back against the pillows on the bed. He then began trailing messy kisses – contrary to what he promised once before, he never got better about that, but Lyn didn’t particularly mind – down her chest and stomach until he settled between her thighs, holding onto her with his arms around her hips.

Lyn held onto him with her fingers in his hair and shuddered against his touch. _That,_ at least, he had gotten a lot better at, and she lost herself in the warmth of his lips as night fell over them.


	30. Chapter 30

Lyn’s hair had a habit of sprawling all over Hector’s chest by morning, but he’d come to appreciate it; the forest-colored mess meant that he’d woken up by her side, and that was all he wanted. So not the wake her, he gingerly combed his fingers through her hair and tucked it behind her ear, revealing her sleeping face.

She was so beautiful.

Hector skimmed his fingers through her long hair, following the curves of her body as it rose and fell with her breath. He knew it was true for most everyone when they slept, but Lyn was a goddess of serenity in the way her lips parted slightly, the way her brows relaxed, the way her fingers curled delicately in the space between them.

On one of them, shining in the morning light that filtered through the window, was a gold band, and the sight of it made him smile.

His hand trailed from her side, down her arm, and to her hand, where he traced tight circles around her ring – she hadn’t taken it off when they’d gone to bed. Hector wasn’t able to give it to her when they got engaged months ago because it resided at Castle Ostia – an heirloom that was to remain on the hand of the women of the royal house – but he made sure she had it by her first night there. It was possessive, but he was tired of their relationship being questioned, and he liked the message the ring sent to the disapproving members of the court. They expected Hector to be somehow different than he was: they wanted someone like his father – like Uther, even – older and conservative and stiff and noble.

In contrast, Lyn wanted Hector. She didn’t expect anything else from him, and that made him love her even more. So unfortunately for the gossiping nobility, his motivations for marriage were nothing less than that – love.

Lyn’s eyes slowly opened, like a flower unfurling by the touch of daylight. “You can’t leave me alone to sleep…” she murmured, but the smile on her lips told Hector she wasn’t upset about it.

He closed his hand around hers and leaned over to kiss her cheek, but missed and hit her ear instead. No matter. “No, I can’t,” he whispered. “I’m greedy like that, remember?”

“Hmph. You are.”

He could feel her blush, no doubt recalling what she’d said to him the night before, and went on to nip at her ear (somewhat carefully, because on more than one occasion, Lyn had to make up excuses for odd marks around her ear, unless she wore her hair down to cover it up). Moving from there, he claimed her with kisses down her neck and chest, her sun-kissed skin smooth and warm on his lips. Lyn arched into him and moaned quietly, grabbing his side with one hand as if to maintain herself.

“Hector…” she said, tilting her head up and away from him. “The ascension… Eliwood and Ninian and the others are coming from Pherae today, and…”

“Not until the afternoon.”

“… and there will be talk when I come out of your quarters this morning.”

“What, is the nobility not supposed to know that two consenting adults are seeing each other?”

Hector looked up from Lyn’s chest to see a smirk cross her lips. “We are incredibly bad at being nobles.”

“I know – ” he began, but was cut off by Lyn’s mouth sealing over his as she pushed him on his back rolled on top of him.

Her hair fell around them like a shroud. “It can’t hurt to be bad like this,” she said, pulling away from the kiss but hovering only inches from his face. The look in her eyes – sharp and deep emerald and wanting – told him all he needed to know. “…this once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time deciding whether or not Hector is the possessive type, but I mean he wouldn't NOT be possessive...
> 
> tldr they're lame i'm lame we're all lame


	31. Chapter 31

It took another year before their wedding could be held. After that, they spend the next few years adjusting to life as the Marquess of Ostia and Princess of Caelin – Lyn opted to keep the title in honor of her mother, but remained in Ostia as Caelin fell under the care of her trusted knights.

Neither one of them could stand being cooped up inside very long, no matter what formal duties they were to attend to. Castle Ostia was surrounded by the city, but both of them knew the way to the surrounding green land well by now.

That was where he found her, gazing north, to Sacae.

Hector wasn’t necessarily the most observant person, but he’d noticed how she feigned excuses to get out of the castle a little more often recently, especially since they’d returned from Kent and Sain’s wedding in Caelin. He supposed something about the trip reminded her of her coming to Lycia. She’d done it for all the right reasons, but now that she was here, there wasn’t much of a way for her to return to her homeland.

So she sat in the untamed grass that grew up to her hips as she sat cross-legged on the ground. Her hair, pulled up in its signature ponytail, swayed slightly in the breeze, and the sun reflected warmly off the earthy tones of her skin.

“Do you miss it?” he asked.

She turned her head around quickly, no doubt in shock to find Hector standing behind her when she thought she was alone. A sigh escaped her. “How did you get out here?” she asked.

“I couldn’t find you, so I came looking. You worry me when you disappear.”

He sat next to her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “…I …I do miss it. Sacae, I mean. I hope that’s what you’re talking about.”

“If we hadn’t gotten married, would you have gone back?”

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation. “But I’m glad I chose this. I chose you, Hector… if I went home, I’d waste a lot of my time thinking about what it would be like to be here instead.”

Someone once told him that Sacaens never lied.

A pang of guilt spread in his chest nonetheless. If he could have it his way, then damn the throne, he would sweep Lyn off her feet and take her to the plains and live with her there.

And so he got an idea.

“…Then let’s go.”

“What?”

“Let’s go to Sacae,” he said, turning to look her in the eyes. “There’s no reason we can’t. Who can stop us from a diplomatic errand?”

“Hector, be reasonable. What sort of errand are we supposed to run?”

“I don’t know, we could go meet your old boyfriend Rath and draw up an alliance or something, or tell everyone that your granduncle on your _father’s_ side is trying to poison – “

Lyn laughed. “Don’t joke like that!”

“I’m serious,” Hector told her. “It doesn’t matter why we go on paper. I just… I want to make you happy.”

A smile spread on Lyn’s lips and shone in her eyes. “You already have.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY to be sad the last few chapters ;~; kind of just wrapping this up... as it gets into the plot of fe6, it gets like this and i am. mildly bitter about it. anyways ~

Lilina was born a few months following their return from Sacae. She’d gotten a full head of thick blue hair from her father, and not much else – her naturally olive skin and almond-shaped eyes marked her as her mother’s daughter, and Hector thought she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

A few more years after that, Eliwood came to visit, and she immediately became friends with Roy. She was a lively child, after all, the type of little girl who leaped over the last two steps of the staircase and constantly bothered her father for trips atop his shoulders (to which he always agreed). And Roy was like his father, polite and friendly… there was no wonder she warmed up to him so easily. In a way, he felt as though he saw his friendship with Eliwood again in them.

Eliwood, his closest friend, who came to Ostia with a certain sadness in his eyes that unnerved him. He’d managed to make him laugh, which was a relief – for those moments, he could pretend they weren’t gathered to discuss the turmoil abroad in Bern, or to recall the vague prediction Athos made fifteen years ago.

Lyn soon joined them, which also helped with the mood, as Hector sent Lilina back to play with Roy. “Eliwood! It’s been too long,” she greeted, and immediately pulled their old friend into a hug. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to meet you with Hector. Are you well?”

The Marquess of Pherae smiled as Lyn joined her husband’s side. “Yes. We were just speaking of the turmoil in Bern.”

“Mother Earth and Father Sky…” she said. She too knew of the news from the east – the King was dead; long live his heir, the new King Zephiel. So her eyes went to the children playing in the courtyard, as did Hector’s. “It’s concerning. I don’t want… I know there’s nothing I can do to prevent it, but I don’t want our children to fall under the burden of war.”

“For the sake of our children’s futures, I’ll stop anything that may happen,” Hector agreed. “I’ll sacrifice my life to make it so.”

It was a sentiment undoubtedly shared by all of them. But Eliwood said, “’Once again, Lycia brings hope…’ That was what Athos told us before he died.”

He’d forgotten as the years went by, but when Eliwood reminded him, it was all clear in Hector’s mind again.

“…If that turns out to be wrong? No. It must happen…” Eliwood looked to them with a slight glimmer in his eyes, though there was still another heaviness in them, a heaviness that hadn’t gone away in the past year.

They all knew it was to happen – another one of Athos’ final messages – but there was a reason Eliwood came to Ostia with only his son. Because when Ninian died, it must have been hard for Eliwood to imagine any possibility of hope.

“It must,” Lyn asserted. “There is hope in this world, just as he said.”

Hector would cling to her words like a lifeline in the next few years.


	33. Chapter 33

He’d been watching Lilina in the courtyard that evening, standing under the awning with his arms crossed on his chest while his daughter practiced fire spells on a dummy. She was smart to keep a few buckets of water lined up behind her, but as young as fourteen, Lilina had already learned to be a fairly precise mage from Cecilia. If he had a chance, he promised, he’d see if she could use that same skill with an axe like him, or with a sword like her mother.

“Hector?”

There was only one person in the castle who didn’t put his title before his name when they called him.

Hector turned to see her behind him, the orange light of sunset glinting off her earrings. “Lyn? What is it?”

“…I’m sure you’ve heard by now, if anyone has. I received word this morning from Matthew’s envoy.” She tugged at the braid plaited over her shoulder – she hadn’t worn her hair like that in some time, and it reminded him of when she was younger; when she was nineteen and dancing with the Mani Katti in long, swaying grasses. “Sacae has been invaded by Bern.”

He met her eyes and found them to be filled with the same viridian determination that they always were before a battle.

“I’m going to aid the Sacaean resistance on Lycia’s behalf.”

And Hector understood. If Zephiel wanted to invade Sacae, then he’d want to venture into Ilia and Lycia as well – perhaps even as far as Etruria and Nabata. “…I trust you to do so. We can call a meeting of the League, organize troops, and – “

“Hector, I don’t want you to come with me.”

She’d read his mind. “I’m the standing general of the army,” he argued. “If Lycia is to involve itself in affairs of war, then I retain my right to lead our forces.”

“You can lead from Ostia while I defend my homeland,” Lyn countered sharply. “…It’s not that I don’t want your help, or that I want to do it all on my own. It’s just… you said yourself that you would do anything for the sake of our children’s futures.” She looked away from him, across the courtyard to where their daughter was pulling a thunder tome out of her satchel – she’d evidently exhausted the fire one. Her expression softened. “Lilina… if she is to remain in Ostia, she is in danger if the country is invaded. Should Zephiel’s ambitions lead him here, there is no doubt he’ll seek to sack this state as soon as he crosses the border.”

Hector sighed. Lyn was right – there had to be a force in Lycia to defend them from the threat growing in Bern, someone to keep the home fires burning. “…Will you be needing additional troops?”

“I’ve opted to take a small force to rendezvous with Rath and the Kutolah – likely Serra, Florina, and Wil. We’ll be en route for Araphen before the end of the week.”

Unwavering and solid as earth – Lyn was twice the general he would ever be. “I trust you, then.”

She smiled at him, and Hector felt his heart drop in his chest sickeningly.

“…Promise me,” he added, “that you’ll return safely.”

She must have noticed how his face suddenly paled. “I promise,” she replied, and placed a reassuring kiss on his lips.


	34. Chapter 34

Florina landed at Castle Ostia a few months later with ruddy, tear-stained cheeks, a battle-worn pegasus, and a sheathed blade that wasn’t her own.

Hector felt his heart lodge itself in his throat at the sight.

He wasn’t prepared to hear her report, but knew what it was before she gave it. With her feeble voice, it was as if Florina was made of glass as she explained all she could before falling apart in tears: that she was the sole survivor of the encounter between Lyndis’ Legion and Zephiel’s army, and was implored to return to Lycia by the dying words of her commander.

And it was as if the world had been knocked out from under him.

Word spread quickly. When Lilina came to the castle after school, it was with solemn eyes and tight lips – she hadn’t let anyone see her cry.

Roy, who accompanied her home to her father, was the more composed of the two. “Lord Hector…” he said, and his voice reminded Hector too much of the boy’s father. “I’m so sorry.”

Hector thanked him and took Lilina back to their quarters.

If the Sol Katti belonged to anyone now, it was Lilina, the little girl who’d sat on her mother’s lap and listened to stories of the plains for hours on end, who reflected her mother’s spirit in her bright eyes and steadfast mentality.

When Hector pressed it into her slender hands, she hesitated.

But her father pulled her into an embrace, Lyn’s sword pressed between them, and her tears began to flow. She wept on him, she sobbed into her father for the mother she wished would come home but never would, who died on an unfulfilled promise, who at least got to see her homeland one last time.

There were no tears from Hector, however. There never were, no matter how fiercely his throat burned or his chest ached.

“Be strong, Lilina,” he told her in hushed tones, rubbing his hand on her back. “You are your mother’s daughter. You are… you are a warrior’s daughter. Remember that.”

A part of him was angry that that was all he could do for her, for his grieving daughter who deserved to live a happier life than one without her mother. And another part of him, still, was angry that he hadn’t stopped it before it happened, that he hadn’t gone to the battlefield with Lyn to support her.

But would it have even made a difference?

He didn’t know, and it didn’t matter, because Zephiel announced his intentions to take Lycia in the next few days, and Hector wasted no time in gathering the Lycian League and assembling the defense at Araphen.


	35. Chapter 35

Hector would have taken out every last one of those Bernese bastards if they hadn’t brought dragons into the fray.

Roy came, though. He wanted to save him, but the boy was a hopeful fool, his wounds were too deep, there was no way… so it would fall on their children, after all.

Hector told him all he could. About the dragons, about the Durandal, which Eliwood had sealed away years in hopes its power wouldn’t be needed as it was before. Roy was bright, however. The legendary weapons would be put to good use if in the hands of him and Lilina.

Lilina… she was still in Ostia. She was what was important, what Lyn told him to protect… as his vision blurred, Hector was sure to remind Roy of that.

And so he closed his eyes and fell into a dream he hadn’t seen in years.

It was a familiar feeling that overtook him, the feeling of warm sun on his skin and a gentle breeze at his back. It was as if the part of him that was missing came back, like the earth and sky had been separated and reunited again, and suddenly, he was whole.

He opened his eyes and smiled, because Lyn was waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! That is it! Thank you so so so so so much for reading this ^^ I didn't think anyone would... support this fic... special shoutout to Mikky for being nice to me especially TuT 
> 
> My last thoughts on it... um... I'm really happy that I managed to write 25k+ words of SOMETHING this was a big accomplishment for me. Especially the main plot (bc the last part is just me being angsty over fe6 lol). But the next thing I publish is going to be happy and silly! I promise!!!
> 
> Ummm... ao3 doesn't have a real messaging system SO my twitter is @aircaliburs ~ idk i talk about writing a lot. AND i say this every time but I love feedback in general ~ Thank you again!


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